


Intricate Webs

by ChaseGrl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, Minor Character Death, OOC, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker & The Avengers - Freeform, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter is 13, Poor Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Sad Peter Parker, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel), Teen Peter Parker, Uncle Clint Barton, peter is emotional
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:23:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14967080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaseGrl/pseuds/ChaseGrl
Summary: *ON HIATUS/TO BE REWRITTEN*No one knew his identity. In fact, most people thought he was a full-grown man, masquerading around the city as a hero when they viewed him as a menace.The vigilante remained, helping even when he was called names. Helping even if they claimed he wasn’t good enough. Helped even when a group of superhuman heroes were reveled, and he was reviled. Because he didn’t do it for the glory, he didn’t do it for the praise, he did what he knew to be right.But little did he know that one fight, one slip of the moment, would change his life forever.The Avengers have kept an eye on the vigilante, and have started to worry about his haggard appearance. When they find out that Spiderman is actually Peter Parker, a child living on the streets, they agree on one thing. Peter needs help. And he's going to get it, whether he likes it or not.Will Peter finally get the family he's always secretly wanted? Or will something tear it apart?





	1. Prologue

No one knew his identity. In fact, most people thought he was a full-grown man, masquerading around the city as a hero when they viewed him as a menace. At least, that was what the Daily Bugle had painted in his image. 

The city had dubbed him as Spider-Man, the vigilante that did more havoc than good. In fact, most citizens tended to blame him for the crimes committed against them, as if his appearance was the main reason more bad guys with guns were running around the streets. Even after securing robbers, rapists, and would be murderers to be arrested, the police opened fire against the hero. Or was it menace? 

Despite all of this, he never stopped. 

The vigilante remained, helping even when he was called names. Helping even if they claimed he wasn’t good enough. Helped even when a group of superhuman heroes were reveled, and he was reviled. Because he didn’t do it for the glory, he didn’t do it for the praise, he did what he knew to be right. 

However, what the city didn’t know, was that he was no man at all. In fact, Spider-Man was barely a teenager. The boy was in fact only thirteen years old, barely coming into his adolescence. Said boy had vowed to help the city after experiencing a series of traumatic events no one his age should have gone through. As a toddler he had lost his parents, his custody handed to his uncle and aunt. They had raised him well but at the cusp of thirteen, his uncle had been shot. The boy watched it unfold. Now, barely halfway through thirteen, and he was losing the only family he had left. His aunt had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. While she had never smoked, it had all been second hand exposure. 

The CPS had visited his home on multiple occasions, trying to speak to his aunt whom had refused chemotherapy. She knew her chances of survival were slim to none and wished to be with him until she passed. The CPS had gained very little leeway with the woman, who claimed she’d find someone to take the teenager that would treat him better than the foster system. 

Most nights the two of them stayed close, watching films or talking about movies. Those were the good nights. On bad nights, she’d comfort him as he cried, afraid of the next step, of what would happen next. And she’d remind him to be good, to do good. She’d remind him to take care of himself, and that she would always be proud of his accomplishments. 

It was for this reason he’d go out, hide his wounds. He couldn’t fight cancer, but he could fight the bad guys. 

It took two months for the cancer to take her. 

He disappeared, reported as a missing child by the CPS. 

And while Peter Parker may have gone missing, Spider-Man became a fixture in the news.


	2. Peter

Steve Rogers ran a frustrated hand through his hair, blue eyes focused on the flashing television screen before him. He could hear the idle chatter of this team members behind him, but there was nothing that could tear him away from the news. 

Once again, the reporter was doing a segment on non-other than Spiderman. The vigilante had garnered so much attention from the media that the Daily Buggle was no longer the only organization thirsting for his images. Something had caused the man to appear more frequently than in the past, something dreaded by both the police and the criminals. 

And while the news had been content in tearing into the man, Steve had taken notice of details that the reporters and civilians were missing. Each time new images appeared, the blond couldn’t help but notice that the suit that Spiderman wore seemed to get dirtier, more torn. Stitches that were obviously done by hand, along with small patches, had been used to cover the holes and the dirt. The only area that seemed to be consistently scrubbed clean were the eyes, so that the vigilante could see. 

Steve also realized that the suit seemed baggier, as if the man had lost substantial weight since making a more frequent appearance. Criminals and civilians were calling for blood, and it didn’t sit well with him. 

They had done the same thing when Bucky had returned, and it had taken a lot of work to get the Avengers from becoming a vigilante group themselves. 

“It appears as if Spiderman has once again escaped the police. Will they ever capture him? Or will he continue to terrorize this city?” The reporter finished, the sound of the police firing shots at the vigilante echoing behind her as the scene cut back to the studio. 

With a sigh, Steve stood from the couch and moved towards the kitchen. Bruce and Tony were hunched over a screen, pointing at a variety of numbers and quietly arguing. Natasha stood beside Bucky, whom was grilling something on the stove, both quietly conversing in Russian. Clint had gone out to get them all Chinese food for dinner, Thor happily joining. Sam sat in a corner, quietly reading a book. He had no idea where Wanda and the Vision had disappeared off to but knew better then to ask. 

“What’s got you down?” A voice came from his right as he all but collapsed into a seat at the counter. Steve looked at Bucky, the soldier having left Natasha to whatever snack they’d been making to join his long-time friend. 

“It’s just…” Steve sighed, allowing himself to hunch over the counter and rest his head on his arms. The room had gone quiet, the unusual behavior catching the attention of the rest of the team. Even Stark had looked up from the data to raise a brow at the blond’s strange behavior. 

“Something’s not right, you know?” He looked up, facing concerned faces. “Spiderman… I can’t help but thinking something’s wrong with him. And I don’t mean the way he handles crimes, Tony.” He added the last part when he noticed the billionaire’s mouth opening, glad to see it close just as quickly. 

“It’s like he’s getting careless,” he added. “Last week he flung himself into a burning building despite the fact that it was on the verge of collapse.” 

Natasha, whom had at this point turned off the stove and was leaning against the countertop with her arms across her chest, nodded in agreement. Her expression was solemn, as she too had been watching the news about the vigilante. 

“While I agree, I don’t think we can do much.” She shrugged when Steve looked at her, seemingly startled. “He’s getting himself into the mess, and we can’t afford to save everyone. He’s a grown man, Steve.” 

The blond seemed as if he wanted to argue, but when he realized that they all had the same facial expression, he understood there was no point in trying to change their minds. But if the opportunity arose, he would take a moment to at least speak to the swinging hero. 

Little did he know the opportunity would arise shortly. 

It was a little over a week when they’d gotten a call that Doombots had been set loose at Grand Central Station. It hadn’t taken them long to rid the area of the things, but what no one had expected was the sight of Doctor Doom himself standing at the ledge of the building, holding a struggling Spiderman in his grasp. 

The vigilante was struggling from a hand that had been wrapped tightly around his throat, holding him on the building’s edge. While in the past these situations seemed easy for the spider, he seemed sluggish in his movements, weaker than usual. Even through the suit it was easy to see that he was bleeding from bullet wounds to his lower calf and one just at the side of his hip. 

The Avengers expected Spiderman to get away from the villain, they had not foreseen what would happened. When the vigilante went to kick Doctor Doom again, the villain had released the hold on his throat, allowing his body to plummet to the ground. Spiderman hadn’t used his webs, in fact, the impact his body made as he hit the floor seemed to echo in the presence of the surprised heroes. It was also the sound that startled everyone into action.

It took them mere minutes to restrain Doctor Doom, leaving him to be handled by the police. Iron Man had stepped forward and scooped Spiderman from the floor, refusing to leave the vigilante to the mercy of the bloodthirsty mob that had reappeared after the attack had ended. 

And that was how the Avengers found themselves with one injured Spiderman being examined by Bruce. The red and blue suit, upon closer inspection, was falling apart at the seams and didn’t take long to cut off the man’s body. They had stopped at the mask, understanding more than most what it meant to have your privacy violated. 

However, the moment the suit was completely off an oppressive silence filled the room. While some of the Avengers had filed out due to space in the med bay, the remaining heroes were frozen. Spiderman’s body could not possibly belong to a full-grown man. 

The bullet wounds were still bleeding, albeit not as heavily as they should have been. Bruises scattered the body, purple and green, ugly. One of his arms had snapped when he had fallen to the ground, and Bruce made quick work of setting it. Two cracked ribs had fortunately missed piercing his lungs. However, the most worrying thing was the dark purple bruises slowly forming at the base of the vigilante’s neck to disappear beneath the base of his mask. 

“You need to examine his head, take the mask off,” Tony ordered. 

“Tony,” Bruce started but was interrupted. 

“Take the mask off!” Tony ordered again, he looked furious. The anger, however, seemed as if it were aimed inward as he stared at the vigilante laying on the bed. Not having to be told again, Bruce gingerly reached up and began to nudge the mask. 

A hand shot up, grabbing his own hands and pushing the scientist away. Spiderman, whom hadn’t been bound down due to the amount of injuries he’d received, immediately sat up. The abrupt movement was followed by a scream, his good arm flailing to touch his chest while the broken one settled uselessly at his side. The masked vigilante quickly looked between the startled faces of Bruce, Tony, Sam, Steve, and Bucky before slamming up from the table. 

His body glued to the ceiling, chest heaving in nothing but boxers and a mask. In his panic he didn’t seem to realize that the dangling broken arm was within reach, or he may have tried to bring it up. 

“Where am I?” The voice was hoarse, immediately a coughing fit causing Spiderman to clutch at his chest and dangle further from the ceiling. 

“We just want to help you,” Sam explained gently. “But you’re injured pretty bad, please.” His hands were up, trying to placate the vigilante. 

Without replying, Spiderman turned his attention to the room. Taking in the various medical instruments before focusing on his cut up suit, bunched on a metal table by the bed. He could feel his heartbeat speed up, the pain of seeing it cut off sending a hand up to reassure that he still wore his mask, even if he knew it was there. 

Turning to look up, Spiderman started slowly towards the open door. The heroes hadn’t made a move to grab him, so he figured they’d panic about his injured state too long to stop him from leaving. What he didn’t plan on, was the dart that his sluggish senses couldn’t warn him about. It took a moment to process the dart sticking out of his arm, but when he realized that it was there, Spiderman tried to remove it. 

He swayed, and with a quick yank from Sam, was safely back on the bed. This time around, Tony helped Bruce quickly place bands of vibranium across his chest, legs, and good arm. The broken one would be useless to fight them off. There was a moan from the vigilante, whose system was quickly working to fight off the effects of the dart shot from Bucky. 

“Sorry, but you’re too injured to not take this off.” Bruce was quick to explain, again reaching forward to remove the mask. 

Spiderman began to shake his head vigorously, trying to keep the mask on at all costs. Tony was the one who finally stepped forward and grabbed his head, allowing Bruce to grab a hold of the material and pull it off the face that was quietly chanting “no.” 

And the silence was back.   
Laying on the table wasn’t a man at all, but a bruised teenager. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears sliding down a dirtied smudged face. It was almost like he thought if he kept his eyes closed, they wouldn’t see him. 

“He’s a child….” The statement came from Sam, breaking the dreadful silence. 

The words seemed to send everyone into motion, Bruce moving even quicker to scan the wounds to make sure that he wasn’t broken beyond repair. Tony, whom had turned from the room with a hardly suppressed scowl to figure out the boy’s identity. Steve stepped forward and held a shaking hand in his own, not sure if the comfort was welcome but giving it nonetheless. And Sam and Bucky, who were moving in succession to give Bruce whatever he needed to scan and heal the teenager. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Steve was doing his best to be reassuring, the sedative in the dart keeping Spiderman calm as he was fixed against his will. 

“We need to clean you up,” Bruce explained gently. It seemed everyone had become gentle at the revelation that the vigilante was a child. 

“You can either have one of us help you to a shower, or you can have me clean you.” Bruce was doing his best to keep the boy from panicking, having a feeling that it would be easier to handle him if he agreed. “I don’t want your wounds to get infected, but you won’t be able to stand on your own.”

There was no response from the boy, and just as Bruce turned to grab a tub a gentle whimper stopped his movements. Steve felt the hand squeeze his own back, before soft brown eyes turned to gaze at him from the bed. “Please…” it was all the boy could get out from the throat that felt like it had been through the grinder. 

Undoing the restraints, the men gently set the boy into a wheelchair. No one wanted to leave him alone, so it was with the crew that they slowly moved from the med bay to the bathroom. Waiting outside, they allowed Steve to pick the child up and get him into the small room. The captain lifting the boy up so that he could remove his own boxers, eyes averting politely to not embarrass the injured child further. 

Running the water until it was warm, he helped set the boy down into the tub before reaching out for some shampoo. He instantly began to wash his hair, allowing the downtrodden, sleepy vigilante to work on his skin. The bandages Bruce had set on his arm were getting soaked, but that was the point of getting him cleaned first. They’d get bandages on that would remain clean, and it was absolutely needed as he watched the water drain brown from the tub. 

It took a good thirty minutes to remove all the dirt, and in that time, Sam had retrieved a shirt and pajama pants, along with some boxers, for the child. They would lay large on his body, but at least it was clean. 

Now that he was clean, it seemed like Spiderman was more sedated, allowing himself to be placed on new sheets on the med bay bed. Examined and wrapped up, he didn’t protest as they put him into a room with a warm bed, taking comfort in the hand that never seemed to leave his own. 

“Hey kid, what’s your name?” Came a gentle voice that reminded the boy of his aunt. Half asleep, and in a warm bed for the first time in months, the boy didn’t think as he answered the question. 

“Peter.”


	3. Fever

A small whimper filled the otherwise empty room as Peter opened his eyes, the mild ache in his chest just irritating enough to bring him back from the land of nod. He blinked several times, his brain trying to process the dark ceiling hanging above him or the soft cover keeping him warm. 

“Wha-?” Instantly he regretted making a sound, his throat dry as he started to cough. 

Glancing down he frowned, his arm ached but seemed otherwise okay, an IV had been deftly placed in his forearm. Hadn’t there been a bandage around it? And where did the clothing come from?

Sitting up slowly, Peter finally scanned his surroundings despite the fog keeping his mind heavy. He lay in a queen size bed, a dresser on one side of the bed, a television hanging on the wall across from where he lay. He took a note that there was no window in the room, and only one door. Unable to retrieve the memory of how he had ended up there, the teenager forced his legs off the bed. One hand gently pulling the IV away to leave it dripping on the floor. 

He wobbled for a moment, limbs and body feeling heavy. Taking a deep breath that caused his chest to ache again, Peter stepped towards the door. The pajama pants were a navy blue, the black t-shirt hanging almost to his knees. Someone had even taken the time to put fuzzy socks on his feet, even if they were covered in what looked like to be the Avengers logo. 

With what felt like hours, but could have only been minutes, he’d ambled to the door and cracked it open. Taking a moment to focus and sense if there was any noise nearby, Peter was satisfied to find that he was alone. His steps were cautious as he moved out into the hall, noting that there were two other doors beyond the room he was in, and an elevator. 

The elevator looked like his best bet, considering it could lead him out of whatever building he was in. Leaning against the wall, Peter made his way to the gleaming doors, releasing a breath of air he hadn’t realized he had been holding when the doors pinged shut after entering the elevator. However, his relief was short lived when he noticed that the elevator had no buttons. 

Moving forward as quickly as his body allowed, Peter moved to pry open the doors when he felt the elevator move. He jumped despite the heavy feeling, crawling so that he was on the ceiling to hide. The fuzzy socks stuffed quickly into the waistband of the pants as he stilled. 

When the doors dinged open, a man with dark hair whom he vaguely recognized stepped inside. He was accompanied by a younger woman whom seemed to be focused more on her phone than the conversation they were having. 

Peter instantly held his breath, hoping they wouldn’t realize that there were three of them in the elevator instead of just two. 

“How long are you going to keep the kid under?” The woman finally asked, looking up from the phone as the elevator started to go further up. 

“Tony thinks we should keep him under until everything is completely healed,” the man answered. “But his healing abilities are amazing, the broken arm is already set, and the ribs have healed up. Even the bruising is mostly gone.” 

The man shrugged. 

“I think we should let him wake up, get some food into his system. I don’t like that we had to use an IV to keep him hydrated, kid’s been through enough.” He sounded tired, like the subject was eating him up inside. 

“What will we do when he wakes?” She asked.

“We keep him in the tower. Tony already took care of the legal matters, but everyone’s feeling guilty.” He looked up at the woman with a sad smile gracing his features. “He’ll fight us, but he’s just a child, he needs someone to take care of him. I don’t think he’s had that in a while.”

The woman nodded, her smile matching the mans. “Don’t worry Bruce, I’m sure everything will work out.”

He didn’t know if it was the drugs that had obviously been put in his system, or the fact that his eyes were dangerously threatening to droop shut. But at the sound of the man’s name, Peter couldn’t withhold the gasp that escaped his throat. The memories rushed back, the Avengers taking him, the med bay, his identity!

As Peter’s hand flew to touch his face, a red light surrounded his body, rendering him immobile. The woman held a hand in his direction, looking startled while Bruce seemed just as surprised. 

“You’re awake!” The man exclaimed just as the door to the elevator swung open to reveal none other than Tony Stark. 

“Kids out of the ro-” the billionaire had begun to talk when he paused, noticing the three tenants of the elevator staring at each other in shock. A grin lit up his face, “well, guess I don’t have to grab him after all! Good job Sabrina!” The man pivoted on the spot, missing the glare he received from the woman as she followed him, Peter floating behind her. 

“Food’s ready!” Came a call from further down the hallway, leading out into an open kitchen and living room area. A table had been set closer to the corner, so large that it could easily fit all the people crowding the room. 

Peter found that he couldn’t protest, the strange thing holding him moving so that he was sitting gently on one of the seats at the table. He watched as several dishes were placed in the middle of the table, plates following. The strange red hue continued to hold him to the chair as the room filled with a variety of people. He couldn’t suppress the startled whimper when a blond man was suddenly pushing his chair back, hand whisking away the socks that were sticking up from the waistband of his pants. 

“Here you go son, can’t go getting sick on us.” He kneeled in front of Peter and promptly shoved his feet back into the socks, the teenager absolutely startled.

After achieving the task, the man abruptly shoved his chair back to face the table and took the seat beside him, the red hue fading from his body. Peter immediately went to jump back, stopping when a hand settled on his already heavy shoulder. He was sluggish, tired, and his eyes seemed to refuse to open past halfway.   
Tony Stark took the seat across from the teenager, grinning at him while his eyes gleamed with a hint of concern. 

“You’re still feeling the effects of the medicine kiddo, you’ll be back to normal soon enough.” He explained, watching as Cap reached out a hand to both reassure and hold the boy to his chair. “Why don’t you eat up Peter, you don’t have anything to worry about while you’re here.”

Peter frowned, how had the billionaire known his name? It wasn’t like he carried around a student ID, not after having disappeared for so long. 

“How do you know my name?” His voice was low and raspy, his hand gently moving to feel the bandages still wrapped around his throat. 

“Peter Parker, age 13, went missing after the CPS tried to gain custody after the passing of your aunt.” Tony’s statement was fact, but it didn’t stop the ache at being reminded of what had happened. “Relax kid, we’re not going to turn you over into the foster system. Eat, you look like you need it.”

Peter was still frowning when someone put a bowl of what looked like chicken soup in front of him. His stomach growling at the thought of substance that didn’t come from a dumpster or a fast food joint. 

Body still trembling and weak, it took some effort to grab the spoon and bring it to his lips. After two shaky bites, he was suddenly lifted from his chair and placed in someone’s lap. He yelped in protest but found that he couldn’t argue with the arm wrapping securely around his waist. It had been so long since someone had shown Peter affection, that the tired teenager slumped into the secure embrace. 

“Open up,” a soft voice spoke near his ear. Obediently, and beyond tired, Peter followed the order. Whomever had placed them on their lap was spoon feeding him the soup, but the teenager found he didn’t have the energy to get embarrassed. He didn’t know how long it lasted, but soon his stomach couldn’t handle more food, and someone wiped his face before gently tucking his head under a chin. 

Peter instinctively curled up, hand grasping the shirt beneath his palm as the medicine threatened to take him under. 

“You’re okay Peter, you’re okay.” He wanted to ask questions. Why had they taken him? What were they going to do with the wanted vigilante? Was he going to end up in jail? Or the foster system? Would they let him go? 

Instead, he felt his mind start to fog again, before being pulled under in the warm embrace of what felt like safety. 

Steve sighed, his hand running gently up and down the small teenagers back as he faced the other team members in the room. When he was positive Peter wasn’t going to wake up, he stood and gently placed him on the soft couch in the living room, so that they would be near should he rouse. 

“Kid’s a wreck,” Clint murmured, staring over at the small figure that Natasha was tucking under a blanket. 

“He’s scared.” Steve acknowledged. “He’s been alone for so long… He needs family.”

Tony nodded in agreement, holding up his phone and pressing a few buttons so the screen projected on the wall of the living room in low light. The paperwork on display had Tony Starks signature at the bottom, along with the head of the CPS department and Steve Rogers. It was easy to pull strings, although this one had been hard even for the billionaire. 

When finding out that the CPS was after someone that had super powers, there was absolutely no way they could allow Peter to end up in foster care. Tony had quickly gone to work, using his status to get an adoption through with or without the thirteen-year old’s consent. Peter was obviously not fit to watch after himself, so they would do it for him. While Stark and Rogers were now officially his guardians, the rest of the Avengers also took precedence on the child’s well-being. Starting with his reputation as Spiderman.

“I’m assuming you haven’t told him yet,” Clint raised a brow. 

Tony shrugged, it wasn’t exactly Peter’s choice. He didn’t miss the proud look that Bucky sent the Captain, considering the man rarely did something without everyone agreeing. 

“Kid’s ours, all of ours.” Steve had taken a moment to start on his own meal, most of the team finishing up their food rather quickly. “We share the responsibility from now on. It’s not going to be easy.”

Sam agreed. His work had shown him what living on the street could do to a person, and usually they were seasoned adults. This was a child whom had lost everyone he loved before he could experience what being a child even meant. It broke his heart. 

Surprisingly, it was Bucky who broke the mood. He grinned and moved to the couch, not hesitating when he gently lifted Peter so the boy was half wrapped in his lap while he slept, one hand grabbing the remote for the television.

“Well, since it seems we all agree for once, I want to catch up on some of these movies I haven’t seen!” He spoke softly, as to not wake Peter. But the Winter Soldier would have no hesitation in protecting someone who reminded him of a smaller version of Steve, before Steve ever even had the serum injected. 

Since Peter had woken in the afternoon, it wasn’t hard for the others to agree to the films. Mostly all the early morning routines had been done, and the only Avengers truly missing were Vision and Thor. So, without too much fuss, the rest of the team settled down to watch what the “old men” (Tony’s words) had to catch up on. 

It wasn’t until three hours later, in the middle of one of the films, that Peter stirred. At first the team didn’t realize it, but it became evident when his hand tightened on Bucky’s pant leg, his breath started to speed up as if he were afraid. In less than a second, Peter had snapped his eyes open and screamed, trying to desperately reach something that only he could see. If it wasn’t for Bucky’s quick reflexes, the child would easily have been sprawled on the ground. 

“Woah!” Steve was already kneeling by the sofa, trying to bring the boy back from whatever nightmare had awoken him. Someone silencing the movie on the screen. 

“Peter,” he spoke gently. “Peter, look at me!”

But the boy’s eyes were glazed, he was starting to sweat. His skin started to flush pink, and the good arm curled into his chest as if that would stop whatever was haunting him from continuing. 

With a curse that would have made the rest of the Avengers proud, Steve realized that the teenager was burning up more than humanly possible. He instantly peeled back from his friend, letting Bucky lift Peter away from the couch. Seeing what was happening, Bruce had already started for the medical bay, creating a cold bath to bring down the fever that was quickly becoming dangerous to the teenager. 

It was no surprise that when Bucky arrived carrying the teen, the entirety of the team was behind him. However, what took everyone off guard was that it took both Steve and Bucky to hold down Peter’s thrashing body when they placed him in the tub. His yelps turning to whimpers, body instantly shivering as they tried to get his temperature down. 

In what felt like hours, but merely lasted minutes, Peter was pulled out of the bath and covered in a fluffy towel. The haze slowly lifting from his expression as he hugged the towel closer for warmth. There was no protesting when Steve led him into a small room and helped him change, his body feeling weak. As soon as they stepped back into the medical bay, Natasha wrapped the blanket from the couch back around the still shivering teen.

Bruce instantly checking for infections, or for a source of the fever. When he found one of the healing wounds had been infected, Peter was wrapped in a comforting hug from Steve. Bruce taking the time to disinfect and bandage the wound.

“I…I…” His teeth had stopped chattering, but it seemed the shivers wouldn’t stop. Peter felt miserable and didn’t like the feeling at all. “I want to-to g-go home. I-I want my au-au-aunt.” He knew he was acting like a kid, but he hadn’t felt such misery in a very long time. He also hadn’t been held in ages.

Steve only hugged him tighter, glad that the boy was curling further into his body and taking comfort in his presence. He shushed the child, knowing that while his heart was breaking the rest of the team was likely in the same position. 

“You’re home, kiddo.” It was Tony.

And almost as if the floodgates had been opened, Peter started to sob. His body curling into Steve’s embrace as the fever opened emotions he normally would have kept hidden. And as Peter cried himself to sleep, the Avengers vowed to not let anything bad happen to a child that had suffered too much in a short life. 

When it came time to put Peter’s heavy body back to bed, there was no argument that one of them would spend the night in the room with the teenager. It was worrying to see him wake in such a panic, and if it happened again, or if the fever got worse, it would be better if there was someone to help him. No one was surprised when Steve offered to take the first night, already holding the child comfortably in his embrace. 

With some help from Bucky in maneuvering into a standing position without waking Peter, the two disappeared from the room with a whispered ‘goodnight’ to the rest of the team. 

As soon as they were out of sight, Tony ran a hand through his hair and seemed to sober up. It was rare for the billionaire to wear such a solemn expression, but it meant that he was just as affected by what he had witnessed as the rest of the team. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. do a full scan for any information on Peter Parker. I want likes, favorite foods, interests, clubs he may have been involved in.” The AI affirmed the search while Tony turned to face the remaining Avengers. “Tomorrow, we’re going to buy everything to make that kid feel at home.”


	4. "Errands"

The mild ache in his chest was gone, but that didn’t mean that Peter wanted to open his eyes. In fact, he moved so that he was curled further into the warmth surrounding him, face burrowing into the chest next to him. One of his hands reached down to pull the blanket around his waist further up, groaning when he realized it was far too heavy to lift with his sleep addled brain. He could still feel the effects of the fever.

Trying again, Peter frowned when he thought he heard someone trying to contain a sound mixed between cooing and snickering. There was a moment before the blanket moved on its own, keeping him pressed securely into the body next to him.

He froze. 

With a startled yelp Peter all but shoved himself off the bed, half of his body hitting the ground with a solid ‘thump’ while the bottom remained tangled in the blankets. Blinking his eyes open, he was startled to find that he had been cuddling with whom he could only assume was Captain America.

The previous, semi-drug hazed memories came rushing back. Getting thrown from a building without having the energy to catch himself, waking up in a med bay filled to the brim with the Avengers, crying like a little boy when he was held for the first time in months. Peter could feel his face burning up, partially from the fever and partially from the blush making its way down his chest. 

“Peter,” the blond had his hands up, as if taming a wild animal.

Big brown eyes flew up to the hero’s face before he realized the extent of what had just been said. They knew his identity! They had removed his mask without his permission and had somehow gotten information on him. 

Looking around to see if there was a window he could use, or a trace of his suit, Peter quickly untangled himself from the sheets so that he could move further away from someone he would have freaked out over under normal circumstances. Not that he had had many of those. 

“You’re okay,” the words sounded familiar. 

Tensing up, Peter moved as if to throw himself into the wall, but instead found himself colliding with another body. Startled, he yelped in surprised and jumped forward, tripping on the blankets and falling face first into Steve’s awaiting arms. 

“You’re okay,” the words repeated. Without hesitating Steve picked him up under the arms and set Peter down so that was standing between himself and the Winter Soldier. A rock and a hard place.

He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate, his brain no longer in pain or in a drugged haze working on overtime to process what he was witnessing. The fever making everything worse. Were they going to arrest him? Were they going to try to turn him over to the CPS? Were they going to try to stop him from being Spiderman?

A hand pulled him into a chest, his ear rested gently above a heartbeat. Someone’s hand was rubbing his back, another voice telling him to listen to the breaths and the beat to calm himself down. It took several minutes before he managed to follow the quiet words, feeling lightheaded. Grateful that they had recognized and stopped his panic attack from blowing up, Peter slumped in the arms of the hero. 

“Feeling okay bud?” It was the Winter Soldier, looking friendlier than Peter had ever thought he’d see him. Wasn’t the guy supposed to be a killing machine?

Not entirely sure how to react to being held by some of the world’s greatest heroes, Peter’s brain started to come up with any words that might break the mood. However, before he could open his mouth his stomach beat him to it, growling rather loudly and causing both men with him to start chuckling. 

“Let’s get some food,” Steve spoke softly, nudging Peter so that he stood between the two super soldiers. 

He wasn’t sure why he followed them so willingly, perhaps it was the idea that both men had seen him at his most vulnerable and not mentioned it. It threw him off, that an adult was willing to take care of him. Or maybe it was the fever that still made everything seem just a little foggy, took away some of his normal thinking processes.

Sitting Peter on a stool by the kitchen counter, the Winter Soldier took a seat next to the boy. The other hero making his way into the kitchen to start a healthy breakfast for everyone. 

“James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” The brunette introduced when Peter’s shoulders started to relax, and he hunched to stare at his lap. “And that guy is Steve Rogers.”

“And you can call him Steve or Mama Bear,” another voice startled Peter from behind. It was only old habits of concealing his identity that kept him from jumping onto the ceiling. Turning quickly Peter found himself face to face with a man he had worshipped since he was a small child. Even with everything that was happening, he couldn’t keep the awe from his face as the billionaire took the other seat next to the boy. 

“I’m Tony, glad to see you’re doing better kid.” The man had taken out his phone and started running through the screen, seemingly talking to Peter as if finding a thirteen-year old who was a superhero living on the streets was an everyday occurrence. “I’d cook you something, but I don’t want to show up the Cap over there.”

Peter was speechless, brain once again going on overdrive as he tried to figure out what to say to the man next to him. It was only made worse when one by one the Avengers entered the kitchen area, each introducing themselves by their real name. 

He only came out of his stupor when a plate filled to the brim with food was placed in front of him, the others finding areas of the counter to eat and surround him. “I’m… um… I’m Peter.” And he felt himself blush when sounds of amusement came from those around him. 

How could he forget? They already knew his name!

“Eat up kid, you have got to be hungry,” Tony said while pushing the plate closer to the teenager. It didn’t take a genius to see that the boy was too skinny for his age. He was short too; his growth probably stunted a bit from the lack of nutrition his body needed. 

Peter started to hesitate, but his stomach was screaming for the meal, and before he could stop himself he was inhaling the food. When a hand moved in his vision and grabbed his filled fork, he couldn’t stop the half snarl that escaped his lips. 

“Woah,” Bucky put his hand back. “I’m not going to take it from you bud, just… slow down.” 

He was pretty sure the blush was going to be permanent on his skin. Despite helping people, whenever he wasn’t donning his costume he had to survive as Peter Parker, flimsy homeless kid. Instinct had set in that someone was going to rob him of his food. 

Nodding to show that he understood, Peter slowed down. However, it took every fiber of his being not to shovel the rest of the meal into his mouth. Unfortunately, with his metabolism the meal didn’t last very long. Already embarrassed by his reaction to Bucky, he couldn’t dare bring himself to ask for more food. 

His body was still trying to heal, and the fever was evidence that he didn’t get enough meals as it hadn’t gone away as quickly as it normally would have. 

As he thought about it, he realized they hadn’t asked him for anything in return for the food. Sitting up he frowned at the surrounding group, trying to figure out their motive. Taking the silence as initiative to talk, Peter gently prodded, “what do you want in return for this?”

Nothing was free. Nothing.

“We want you to be a happy, healthy, teen.” Was the instant reply from Clint, who was perched on the counter across the way sipping on a mug of hot coffee. 

Peter felt his brows shoot up. “You’re not my parents. I have… I have someone waiting for me.” It was a complete lie, but they didn’t know that. Right?

“Actually kid, we are, and you don’t.” Tony ignored the warning look he got from Steve, pressing something on his screen so that Peter could see the paperwork he’d shown the team the night before. 

“You’re officially adopted. Welcome to the family kid, there’s no getting out.” Tony grinned, missing the look of rage and fear that was overcoming Peter’s features as he stared at the document. 

With a shout Peter had grabbed the phone and tossed it across the way, only enraged further when it failed to crack or break. Before he could scramble up and onto the ceiling, a solid grip on his upper arm froze him in place. 

He didn’t need parents! His last parents had been enough, and he wouldn’t accept someone trying to take their place. And didn’t he have a say in who was in his life?

“Get off me!” Using the super strength that he’d been lacking from his energy depletion, Peter yanked away from the super soldier, stumbling back from the counter. “You can’t do this!”

“Calm down kid,” Tony was standing, as were Natasha and Bruce whom now stood behind Peter. He was completely circled by the group with no clear exit. His harsh breathing sounded loud, feet staggering to stay beneath him. 

“Sit down Peter,” it was Steve. He spoke calmly, looking halfway concerned and shocked by the reaction they had received from the teen. When Peter shook his head, again looking as if he were going to have a panic attack, Steve moved forward. 

Spinning in a circle and feeling like the walls were closing in, Peter instantly curled into a ball. His hands thrown over his head as he tried to find a way to calm himself. There was a mild protest when Steve pulled him into another warm embrace. 

“My breath, your breath, come on kiddo,” Steve was rubbing his back. He repeated the mantra several times until Peter felt his body start to calm, relaxing in the hold of the blond man beside him. And while he would be embarrassed by his reaction later, the teenager curled into Steve and didn’t let go. Burying his face in the crook of the mans’ neck like a child seeking comfort from a storm. 

“Good job kiddo, you’re doing great.” He glanced at the rest of the team whom had inched away but hadn’t left the room. No one wanted to see the kid hurting. 

“Let us take care of you Peter.” 

Steve withheld a sad smile as the boy stubbornly shook his head at the request. “Please, just give us a chance, okay? You don’t even have to call anyone by anything but their given name.”

He tightened his hold on the boy when he heard the first sniffle, the tears soaking his shirt following quickly after. Getting to his feet without releasing the teen, Steve turned and carried him towards the kitchen. The stool was strong enough to hold the two of them. 

“And since you’re here, you can help us in the lab.” Bruce added gently when the crying seemed to ease, checking his temperature with a gentle hand to the boy’s temple. He had gotten information that Peter was labeled as extremely intelligent by the different schools he had attended, specifically in scientific subjects. 

He didn’t expect wide brown eyes to look up in surprise. “Really?” it came out as a squeak, but processing everything on top of being sick meant Peter had a hard time composing himself. 

Bruce nodded, but let out a grunt when Tony lightly pushed him from the teens vision. “Think about it kid,” Tony grinned. “You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out about your powers, you’ll have food and a home, and you can fiddle with all things science! I won’t even be mad if you blow some stuff up! Hell, I’ll help!”

When there was a bark of disagreement from Steve, the man only resorted with an eye roll. “Fine, tiny explosions.”

“No explosions, whatsoever, Tony.” Steve retorted. 

“That takes away all my fun,” Tony complained with what could only be described as a pout. “But we’re still having lab time! You’re not taking that away Mama Bear!” 

Before Steve could reply a small giggle from the teenager filled the air. The bickering heroes were quite amusing to someone who had always seen them as cool and composed. It seemed the tears had completely dried, and Peter looked like he was back from his rollercoaster of emotions.

“I’m going to run out for a few errands, need to buy a few things. Want to come with me kid? Bruce is coming,” the man ignored the spluttering of surprise from the other scientist. “And I’m sure Bucky or Steve wouldn’t mind tagging along. One of them will want to keep an eye on that fever.” 

Peter seemed hesitant, looking between all the encouraging smiles sent his way before nodding ever so slightly. 

“Great, but you have to promise me one thing,” Tony clapped his hands, but looked very serious as he regarded the child that was starting to sit up in the soldier’s lap. “You will stay with us the entire time, no running away. And if you don’t feel good, you have to tell us.” 

He stood staring at them without being sure exactly what to say, biting his lower lip for a moment before he barely whispered that he promised. 

Seeing as it would take one of the super soldiers to hold Peter back if something were to happen, Steve agreed to go with the three while Bucky stayed behind with the rest of the team to work on decorating what was soon to be Peter’s official room. Even Pepper would be helping as she had been sent all the information from Tony on what the kid seemed to like and dislike. 

Despite wanting to look more grown up in the eyes of his heroes, Peter didn’t fight when Steve offered to help him choose some borrowed clothing for the trip. He had a large pair of black sweats around his hips, a plain shirt, and an oversized hoodie they could use to hide his face if anyone recognized them. Tony had even found out his shoe size and gotten delivered the closest size they had in the tower. 

Bruce insisted that he check Peter over before they left, giving him cold medicine to bring down the fever and packing two bottles of water for the teen. A third he’d handed over immediately and commented that he’d noticed Peter seemed a bit light headed with the way he moved. 

They met Happy in the underground garage, to not draw attention to the group. Peter seemed nervous, his shyness clearly overcoming him as he fiddled with the bottle and didn’t dare look up. He’d been placed between Steve and Tony, Bruce having sat up front with Happy. 

Their first stop was a high-end store, where Tony bought a pair of sunglasses and a watch. He didn’t offer to buy Peter anything, just letting the child stoop on a soft chair next to Steve. He wanted Peter to relax before he’d get him all the essentials the kid was obviously lacking. 

The fever was a bit of a blessing, as it seemed to reign in the boy that would surely be trying to run if he had full control of his emotions and body. But, in their favor he was still rendered weak and didn’t seem to be fighting the help. Hell, if Tony didn’t want to surprise him with the permanent room, he wouldn’t have taken the boy out of bed.

The second stop was more private than the first, Tony having requested the store be closed so that they could shop without having to deal with the press or other customers. It had taken a good ten minutes before the teenager had realized that all the things getting picked out were meant for him, and then the quiet, cough ridden protests had begun. They were ignored. 

“Kid, either help us or you let us pick out your clothes!” Tony spoke cheerfully, holding up a variety of Avenger themed pajamas. He’d even grabbed a t-shirt that proclaimed undying love to Iron Man. Steve and Bruce weren’t much better, grabbing gear for the rest of the team so that Peter would look like a walking billboard. 

Realizing that he’d have to start picking something or risk looking like he was the worlds biggest fanboy (he was, he just didn’t want to admit it) Peter started to finally look around. He was glad when Steve stood nearby, making sure that he had someone to hold onto if he started to sway. 

He chose a lot less when compared to the others but found that he was enjoying himself quite immensely. The shirts had geeky jokes, the converse he’d grabbed were a dark blue, so they’d stay clean longer. He even picked out a hoody, although he liked the one he was wearing. Peter would never admit that it was because it belonged to Steve. 

After seeing his sense of taste, Tony laughed but approved. It wasn’t long before they had more clothing stockpiled for Peter then the boy had in his entire lifetime. It was only when Peter started to vehemently protest that he didn’t need more that they finally stopped. He tried to convince the group of men that he didn’t need all of it but was again ignored as Tony paid for it to get delivered and handed an outfit from the pile, so Peter would have something fitting to leave the store with. 

Throwing on a grey shirt that stated, “Never trust an atom, they make up everything,” and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans with the converse, Peter looked like a regular kid. The hoody was thrown over him again, considering it was getting colder in New York and it seemed to do the trick in keeping the kid calm. Steve had seen him burrowing into it earlier when he thought no one was looking, comforted by the warmth and scent. 

Peter felt something fuzzy in his chest (besides the cold), a feeling he hadn’t had since living with his aunt. He rubbed a hand over his heart, trying to get the strange feeling to go away. When they got into the car for the next destination, he couldn’t stop the tears that welled up and spilled over. The inside of the vehicle slightly spinning in his eyes.

Deftly wiping at the tears, he was glad when Bruce grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. No one commented on the fact that he was crying, and Peter wouldn’t have been able to explain it anyway. The quiet moment was once again broken by his stomach growling loudly. 

“Pizza!” Was Tony’s reaction, having sat up front with Happy to take a call from the tower. “What kind would you like Peter?”

Peter perked up at the mention of the food, looking almost like a puppy with it’s tail wagging as he tried to figure out what he wanted. Bruce and Steve didn’t have the heart to say no, that grease wouldn’t help Peter’s already queasy stomach. The child was distracted, happy, and seemed to be opening to them. 

With a laugh, Tony just shrugged and ordered one of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the nice comments <3 I'm going to try to update as much as I can, but I'll be traveling soon so it may be a while. I'm not sure where the story will end up going, but thus far I've written out a few chapters that I review several times before posting :) Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Running Temperatures

The tower was abuzz with excitement. It had taken several hours but Peter’s room had finally been completed, and while there weren’t any windows, it was meant to be bright and comfortable. They just didn’t want the boy to try to take off when he was alone. 

They’d installed two different perches in the corners of the ceiling. One was almost invisible, created so it looked like it was part of the wall rather than an open perch at all. Bucky had suggested it to make Peter feel comfortable if he ever was overwhelmed by the Avengers. However, if one of them needed to get up there there was a button hidden in the wall that would create a set of steps up to the perch. The second perch was more like a hammock hanging from the ceiling. 

On top of the bed they had an artist paint the logo from Spiderman’s chest, giving way to the blue that was a bit lighter around the room. The light was controlled so that Peter could choose whether he wanted them to dim or brighten. The closet was large, now filled to the brim with the items that had come in from the shopping spree. Even Peter’s dresser was filled to the edge with clothing. 

A computer desk had been set up under the first perch, with the latest tech. The television was located on the wall across from the bed. Pepper had pulled a few strings and gotten hold of several photos from Peter’s childhood. They had all been framed and put on the wall where the windows would have been. There was a brand-new camera sitting on the bed, so that Peter could add to the wall whenever he felt like it. 

Bucky had persisted they purchase large lego sets, sitting organized on top of a bookshelf filled with a variety of books. He’d figured it wouldn’t hurt to build them with Peter. Making sure the door was firmly closed, the group had then gone off to do their own tasks before the shopping group returned. 

“Sam! Help me out!” Bucky tilted the crazy number of pizza boxes out of the elevator. He heard a groan from Sam when he stumbled forward with the boxes, glad when some of the stack was taken, and Bucky could see again. 

“I don’t know what the hell Tony was thinking, we’ve never eaten this much pizza.” He grumbled, not that they were heavy, just large. 

“Spoiling the kid, guarantee it.” Clint retorted, sneaking a box from the pile. 

Natasha also moved forward and grabbed another box from the pile, leaning back on the counter as she stared at the towering pizza boxes in front of her. Deciding to help, she grabbed more of the stack and assisted the group in placing the boxes on the counter. 

“I don’t think even Thor can eat all of this,” Sam eyed the food. 

The smell of pizza quickly lured the rest of the team to the kitchen, although no one ate as they waited for the shopping crew to arrive. “Anyone want to take a bet on which one Peter is going to call his favorite?” Natasha smirked. 

“I call meat lovers!” Clint all but hollered. 

“Veggie pizza, that kid could probably kill for some veggies.” Sam frowned when Clint laughed at him, explaining how he obviously didn’t know that children hated their vegetables. 

“Cheese,” Vision voted with Wanda, thinking he’d like something simple. 

“Pepperoni!” Thor cheered. 

“I think he’ll love the works,” Pepper shrugged, having taken a seat at the counter near the food. 

Natasha raised a brow at Bucky, who merely shrugged. He thought the boy would likely make himself sick eating every single piece that he could afford. Why not try everything when you had the chance? Personally, he had a feeling that they’d be cleaning up puke from Peter eating too much greasy food on a sick stomach. 

“Margarita, it’s fresh.” Natasha gave a nonchalant shrug, relaxing as the ping of the elevator announced the arrival of the other four. 

Everyone expected that the boy would have some sort of amusing reaction, but no one could have prepared for Peter. The clothing seemed to bring him a little out of the shell he’d created while on the streets, his big brown eyes focusing on the load of boxes with shock. But unlike the quiet teenager he’d become, an old part of Peter worked its way to the surface. 

“Look at all that pizza!” He all but shrieked. Without waiting for the men behind him, Peter all but sprinted towards the boxes, stumbling and getting caught by Bucky. He was jumping from one foot to the other, throwing a desperate look at Tony from over his shoulder. “Are we eating?!”

Instead of letting Tony answer, Bucky was already plating several pieces. Making sure to put the ones they had all placed a bet on to see what Peter would eat first. He missed a few but figured that the teenager could help himself. 

When everyone started dishing their own plate (secretly keeping an eye on his choice) it was with surprise that Peter glanced at an open box of Hawaiian pizza he hadn’t gotten with a small look of longing. But he seemed to be resolute with what he was eating and didn’t ask for more. 

His face lit up when Natasha, seeing the look, took a slice and put it on top of the pile he had already accumulated from the super soldier. “Looks like this one is your favorite,” she commented with a grin.

Peter nodded, eating only half the pizza before he started on the others, figuring he’d save the best for last. What the team came to realize as they’d slowly sneak slices on the boy’s plate, was that Peter had the same appetite as their serum boys and thunder god. 

It took almost three large pizzas before Peter stopped eating, his last slice the Hawaiian, in which his moan was not contained. 

Other than Thor, everyone else had already cleared the boxes and finished eating. It was then that the huge man formally introduced himself to Peter, and it was likely the pizza slice in one hand that had the kid relaxed and not fearful. 

“Hey kid, we have another surprise for you.” Tony interrupted with a smirk gracing his lips. He looked like he was going to burst from having to wait for the boy to finish his meal. 

With the rest of the Avengers looking at the teenager with excitement, it was no surprise that Peter quickly averted back to his shy state. The hoody serving as a hiding place, the fabric covering his face slightly as he hunched over in the seat. 

“It’s a good surprise, come on kiddo.” Steve had once again rested a reassuring hand on the teenager’s shoulder. It was a bit shocking that the boy didn’t jump at the contact, but rather inched into it seeking the comfort it offered. 

However, the shock quickly gave way to worry when Peter’s hand flew up to his mouth. Recognizing the signs Clint slid the trash bin closest to him so that it landed perfectly in front of the teen. Within seconds Peter had hunched over and emptied out his stomach, Steve’s hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. 

With a sigh Steve softly lifted Peter when he was sure the boy wouldn’t hurl on him, sending the others a concerned look before carrying him to the nearest restroom. He got there just in time as Peter looked green again, promptly releasing anything that was left in his stomach into the toilet. 

He was shaking, hands weakly gripping the toilet as he tried to sit up. 

“Here,” Bruce stood in the open doorway, holding a little cup with a thick red liquid on the inside. “It’s something we created here, so it should help with the queasy stomach and hopefully that fever.” 

Steve gently forced the medicine on the shaking kid when Peter was able to sit up just enough to take it. Without a word he took off the now vomit covered hoodie the boy had been wrapped in and threw it next to the tub for someone else to grab. 

“Let’s get you changed and in bed,” the hero murmured, lifting the kid into his arms. 

Peter didn’t protest, eyes half lidded and half passing out. “Okay,” came the meek, quiet agreement. 

Although the room was supposed to be a moment of happy surprise, Steve merely carried Peter directly to the bed. Tony, whom had never fallen too far behind the pair, was already holding up a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for the kid. It took a little maneuvering, but the two of them quickly got Peter changed and under the covers. 

Peter was tired, his head was spinning and while the medicine had helped he still felt terrible. The last time he had been this sick, his uncle and aunt had both been around. 

The thought sends a jolt though his system, a ring that’s clear in his head. His aunt and uncle. Gone.

He doesn’t want to cry and manages to hold in the gut wrenching sobs that threaten to make the now mild stomach ache worse. A few tears slip past his tightly shut eyelids, and Peter turns to bury his face in the pillow so that the heroes won’t see it. 

“Do you need anything?” Steve’s voice is gentle, placing a hand on his forehead to see if Peter’s temperature has improved. 

“Sleep,” he whispered back, voice muffled by the pillow.  
“I’ll be right here until you do,” Steve assures him. 

And he waits, sitting by the sick child’s bedside until Peter’s body slackens. He waits until the breathing evens out, ignoring that Tony hasn’t left the room either. 

When he’s satisfied that Peter is sleeping deeply, both men quietly get up and walk out. Tony asking his AI to keep the team updated on the teens condition, though they’ll all be checking in on him in turns for the next few hours. 

What neither hero realizes, as they step out of the room, is that Peter never fell asleep. He’d lived on the streets for far too long to not be able to feign something so simple. And keeping still isn’t hard, not when his head is suddenly filled with thoughts of the last time he was sick. 

Aunt May had made soup, never once leaving his bedside. Uncle Ben had gone out and rented a few movies, claiming that the best way to feel better was lighthearted films and cuddles. They’d even put Peter in their bed, right between them. 

Without warning, his stomach spasms and he moves just fast enough to throw up right onto the floor. The lack of food for so long, the greasy food, the lack of sleep, worry, anxiety, his identity revealed, everything spiraling into making what he has worse. Peter peers his eyes open, barely recognizing the room he’s in, looking for a way out. He needs to get outside, he needs to clear his head. He doesn’t recognize that he’s slowly moving into a panic attack.

With a leap that almost ends with him splattering right back onto the ground, he manages to hold onto the ceiling. Using one hand he pries the vent open, scrambling to get inside so that he can scurry out of the building. His body moves sluggishly, and his normal spidey senses aren’t working. He misses the door opening or the startled shout from the room. 

Outside, clear his head. 

His stomach spasms again, this time he only throws up the remnants of the medicine and stomach acid. But Peter continues forward. His ears slowly pick up the sound of alarms ringing in the building. His brain starts to pick up that he hasn’t seen a window in any of the rooms he’s been put to rest in. That his suit is missing, probably permanently damaged. That the Avengers must want something from him to have kept him for this long. To have helped. 

At least he left the clothing behind, they could return it all and not blame him. He may have eaten all the pizza that he’d been given but considering it hadn’t stayed in his stomach Peter doubted that they could really mind it too much. 

Cringing when he hears a vent slam open close by, he deftly closes his eyes and tries to listen. He hears it, the sound of rain hitting glass. 

With speed that comes from instinct alone, Peter throws himself at the vent opening nearest the sound and lands on his stomach in the room. It was a different floor, and the room was done up in dark navy tones. Personal touches were few and far between. 

Whomever had gotten into the vent was rushing, the stealth they’d been using once they’d gone in forgotten as they tried to catch up to him. The alarm was loud, Peter having to throw his hands over his ears to try to keep from screaming as his ears pound. 

He was hyperventilating again. 

“Peter!” The door burst open. The brunette shifted, staring at the team in front of him with wide eyes. Steve was in the forefront of the group, Tony breaking away with his hands up in front of him as he looked at the kid in worry. The alarms fading quietly so that they can talk to him.

“Come on kid, you’re sick, you’re not thinking straight.” He was speaking gently. 

For every step forward, Peter took a step back. The room was spinning… were there two Black Widows? And why was it so hot? His panic was worsening.

“Peter,” the voice was gentle, like Aunt May. “It’s okay,” it was Steve.

Something about the words struck a cord in the boy, a vicious ferocity at the group. They had taken his identity, they had taken his suit, and now what more could they ask for? 

The fever was scrambling up the thoughts in his head, the room wasn’t holding steady, but Peter knew he couldn’t stay another moment in the tower. They wanted something, but what? His emotions were all over the place, amped up with the heat on his skin. 

“I’m… I’m Spiderman, I can take care of myself,” he stuttered, glad to see that his steps towards the window had frozen the rest of the room. 

A hard look passed over the groups faces, but quickly vanished from everyone but Steve. “No,” his words are firm, ignoring the disbelieving looks thrown his way. “You _were_ Spiderman. You’re a child Peter, a kid. You’re sick and you’re not taking care of yourself. You’re not going to go out there and fight crime when you can barely stand.”

Peter’s fever colored skin blanched, and he instantly became as white as a piece of paper. “What? You can’t… you don’t get to…”

“We signed the paperwork kid,” Tony finally spoke up. “You’re not going out as a vigilante, we won’t allow it.”

So that was the end goal, they were going to get rid of Spiderman! He was having a panic attack.

He glared, for a moment everything stopping minus his harsh breaths. Without taking his eyes from the people in front of him, Peter took the last step back and slammed a fist into the window. He made quick work of jumping, feeling as a hand dusted the back of his neck as they tried to grab his shirt. 

But it was raining and grabbing a hold of the tower windows was more difficult than he thought. It took several heart wrenching seconds before Peter managed to stop his fall, his hands burning and his knuckles bleeding from breaking the glass. 

Through the rain and the spinning of the world, he heard the tall tale sign of thrusters taking off from the tower. Grinding his teeth, the teen let himself slide fast, ignoring the burn on his skin before he leapt onto the empty sidewalk below. Glad for the rain, Peter ducked into an alley, pushing the pounding of his skull to the back of his thoughts as he used instinct alone to jump and run from the tower. 

It took only five minutes, but he had to hunch in one of the alleyways to vomit. Body shaking as nothing came up but the sound of his gags. He was still hyperventilating, he couldn’t figure out how he’d run. 

“Kid, you okay?” He turned, his vision was foggy and quickly turning black. Was that Uncle Ben?

“Unc-” He reached out a hand but couldn’t stop himself from collapsing to the ground. The homeless man stood puzzled for only a moment before lifting the teen from the ground and dragging him under his own makeshift shelter.

“You’re going to be okay, here.” Grabbing dirtied coats that he’d collected, the man quickly covered Peter from head to toe. The kid was barefoot! The man glanced back and forth, trying to figure out where the kid had come from, or to see what had him running. 

The man heard a small whimper from below and ran a dirtied hand on the kid’s cheek. “You’ll be okay kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter is currently extremely confused and emotional. He's coming off the streets, and he's sick (which rarely happens to him). I'll try to update the next chapter tomorrow if I can before I leave. Thank you so much for the comments and the kudos. I'm glad you guys like this! <3 I had a bit of a hard time writing this chapter, but I think it turned out okay!


	6. Safe

Peter groaned, his eyes crusted shut. He had never felt as bad as he did at that moment. His entire body was shaking with tremors he couldn’t begin to stop, everything seemed cold, but he could feel the sweat rolling down his spine. 

“Kid,” a rough voice interrupted his perusal of his aches, followed by a hand shaking his shoulder ever so gently. “Kid, you have to wake up. I can’t carry you kid.”

Taking more effort than Peter would have ever liked to admit, he finally managed to open his eyes. The light was too bright, the world was too loud. Peter whimpered, finally focusing on the homeless man casually hunched over his shivering body. 

“We have to get you to a hospital kid,” the man started again. “You have to get up.” 

Peter didn’t protest when the man put a hand behind his back and helped him sit up, the motion stopping when he started to cough harshly. The sound was rough, his throat raw and his chest sending shocking pain all the way to his toes. There was no way he could hide the whimper. 

“Shit kid,” the guy was placing Peter back on the ground. “You’re worse off then I thought.” 

He couldn’t respond, couldn’t give a smart comment because the world was spinning, and Peter was quite ready to just close his eyes and not wake up. 

“Hang on kid, hang on.” The mans voice was fading, and Peter was relieved as he sunk into the darkness. 

The second time he opened his eyes, there were hands on his shoulders and legs. Someone, or several people, were picking him up. On instinct, Peter weakly raised his hands to swat away the strangers, unable to do much but squirm. One hand grabbed his own and extended his arm by his side.

There was a sharp pinch just at the crook of his elbow before Peter quickly lost his fight and fell under again. 

The third time, the familiar beep of a heart monitor woke him. He recognized the sound, the shaking worse as all the bad memories flooded him at once. The sound of nurses softly speaking to other patients nearby, the smell sterile. He was in a hospital. Without having to look, Peter used the little strength he had to reach up and yank the cords out of his arms. 

He couldn’t open his eyes, but he could hear the machines going crazy. Feet rushed into the room, hands grabbing and pushing, forcing Peter back into the too thin bed. He screamed.

Another pinch at the crook of his elbow, and he was gone.

The fourth time he woke up, it was to the sound of a shouting Tony Stark. The man’s voice was carrying from a different room, arguing with a doctor about something that Peter couldn’t start to understand. 

He had to get away, before he was grabbed, before they took away the one thing he still had. But the moment he tried to sit up two strong hands grabbed his shoulders and forced him down. And even with his eyes closed, Peter knew who had one flesh and one metal hand. 

“Stay down punk, you’re not supposed to be moving.” Bucky was standing directly above his head, his face bright as Peter opened his eyes to look at the man though he quickly closed them when the brightness was too much. 

“Where…” he grumbled softly, it hurt to talk. 

“Hospital. Someone found you on the street and brought you here.” Bucky paused, but before Peter could ask more questions another voice managed to sound both relieved and disappointed. 

“The hospital called me kid,” a cool hand rested on Peter’s temple, and he instantly tried to inch as close as he could to the touch. He couldn’t contain the small groan that escaped his lips, the hand feeling like the best contact Peter had ever had. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” he continued. 

“Language,” Peter heard Bucky tease gently, although it was half-hearted because Steve didn’t even respond.

When both men realized that Peter was still too far gone to carry a conversation, the men started talking to each other. However, Bucky’s hands never left his shoulders and Steve gripped Peter’s hand tightly in his own. 

Peter tried to follow the conversation, but his brain was still pounding, and the room still spun. He caught on that they were talking about the tower, something about rooms and nights, but he couldn’t catch anything else. 

Several minutes passed, and Peter wandered in and out of consciousness. He became aware again when he heard Tony’s voice, the man’s hand running through his sweat soaked hair before retreating. 

“They’re releasing him to us. I threatened to sue them for the bruises.” The second sentence answering a silent question Peter didn’t catch. 

“Happy is downstairs with Bruce, back of the hospital so we don’t have to worry about the sharks.” Tony huffed, glancing out of the private room that Peter was in. “Not that they’ll even think about spilling that we’re here or about Peter, they’re already scared enough of me as it is.”

The man turned his eyes back to the kid, realizing that Peter was keeping his eyes shut. Tony frowned, putting two and two together. They hadn’t had a chance to find out all of Peter’s abilities, but if he was truly a spider then his sense must also have been enhanced. He winced, realizing that the lighting was likely causing the kid more pain. 

“Alright kid,” Tony started. “The doctor is going to come in here and put you under, and then we’re going to take you home where Bruce has some medicine prepared just for you.”

The beeping from the heart monitor betrayed Peter’s anxiety, he didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want someone to put him under again when he had just started to recognize his situation. But fighting Bucky’s firm grip proved futile in his state, and Peter could do nothing as he felt the pinch again. 

“You’ll be okay,” Steve murmured. 

The fifth and final time Peter opened his eyes since the catastrophe of the sickness, he found himself in a dimly lit room. The walls were painted a light blue, pictures glinting from a wall where windows should have been, his head pounding too much for him to focus on the images.

Glancing slowly around Peter realized he was alone, but there was some sort of IV attached to his right arm, a band securely around the tube so that he wouldn’t be able to pull it out. Not as easily as he had done in the hospital. The liquid was a weird aquamarine color, not a regular IV drip.

Someone had taken the time to clean him up, change his clothes into comfortable pajamas. A television was hooked onto the wall in front of the bed, and if he squinted he would make out the shadow of what looked like some sort of hidden alcove in the ceiling. A desk sat directly under it, with what Peter could only guess was Stark gear. 

Weren’t they afraid he’d take off again?

He looked up, the vent that he had used earlier was fixed, but there were harsher, darker lines. It was smaller too. Someone had done something to keep him from using it. 

“I actually used vibranium on that,” the voice was so unexpected Peter jumped. However, with how weak he still felt he barely made it off the bed before he was right back, sinking into the huge comforter. 

Tony was leaning against an open door that Peter hadn’t noticed, his arms crossed over his chest. The soft light of the arc reactor making the room seem just a little brighter, yet softer with the blue hue. 

“You scared the hell out of us kid,” he repeated what Steve had said earlier, moving into the room to take a seat right next to Peter. The man didn’t seem to care that the teen tried to scoot a little ways back from him. 

“Bruce even turned a little green when we got you home. Put you to sleep for three days.” 

Peter opened his mouth in shock, but it came out as a dry cough. It didn’t hurt as much as it had at the beginning, but it still sent a slight tremor through his body. 

“Well, you’d wake up enough to eat, but you were never coherent and so drugged you probably don’t even remember.” Tony met his eyes, nodding to himself when Peter didn’t respond. 

“Sever pneumonia,” Tony said grimly. 

Funny, Peter didn’t feel so bad. The fever had gone down to a manageable level, the coughs didn’t hurt as much, and the room was only slightly shifting. 

“You’re in that bed for a few more days, doctor’s orders. And now that you’re coherent, one of us is staying with you too.” Tony nodded towards a cot that had been set up at the far wall. “And I get first shift.”

When Peter looked up at the man in confusion, all he got was an eye roll before he was made to sit up and handed a plastic cup filled with water and a straw. “Drink, I’m not the one who’s going to give you a lecture. You’ll get enough of that from Mama Bear.” 

Grabbing the chair from the desk, Tony set it up so that he could put his feet on the bed and lean back. He grabbed a remote from the nightstand and turned the television to the history channel, grinning when he found that it was a report on the “Howling Commandos.” 

“Watch this Petey,” he nodded to the black and white film of the two super soldiers. “They’re both taking the next shift.” Tony grinned, watching as Peter’s wide eyes focused on the television and he paled. Bucky and Steve could be rather frightening when they worked together, he could speak from first hand experience. 

By the time Bucky and Steve arrived, Tony had done everything in his power to scare the kid into submission. He’d make offhand comments that would startle Peter but pretend he didn’t know what he was doing. The man had gone nuts when they lost the teenager and had broken several traffic laws to get to the hospital when they’d gotten the call. His lab was a mess, having tried everything in his power to figure out a way to track the wayward teen. 

It was a bit cruel to scare Peter, but he had vowed to do everything in his control to show Peter that he had to stay with them. That the kid was safe. 

“I brought food,” Bucky stepped into the room. He held a bowl of soup in his hands, an Iron Man apron hanging around his waist. 

Steve was directly behind him, holding the door open. He raised a brow at the television screen, watching as Tony quickly fumbled with the remote and switched the show to a cartoon, looking super guilty. 

“What were you watching?” Steve prodded. 

“Cartoons!” Tony answered too quickly, sitting up and grinning like the cat that got the cream before jumping up. “Alright Peter, I’m going to do some boring paperwork. You stay here with these two ice blocks and behave.” The man winked and dodged out of the way of the two, leaving the room with a laugh. 

Bucky watched him go with a half smirk before he moved forward, taking the water and carefully handing the thirteen-year old the bowl of soup. “I made it from scratch, it’s a simple chicken so your stomach can handle it.” 

Taking the chair that Tony had just vacated, Bucky watched as Steve didn’t bother to sit. Instead the blond moved to the foot of the bed and crossed his arms, staring down at Peter with a look of complete disappointment, it was no surprise to see the kid hunch over. 

“Do you understand what you did?” It was a simple question, but it was loaded. 

“Steve, at least let him ea-” Bucky stopped when he saw the look thrown his way, instead reaching and whisking the bowl out of the kid’s lap so Peter didn’t spill the whole thing. 

“You could have died. We looked for you for hours, and you were just gone. You could have died in that alleyway. You could have been hurt, you could have never been found. And we’d be here, blaming ourselves. Do you know how worried we were?” Steve’s voice had raised up a bit. 

“You are a child! You are not supposed to be on your own! You’re supposed to listen!” 

“I’m not your kid!” Peter screamed back suddenly, even if his hand settled on his throat from the ache. “I’m not your responsibility.”

“You’re wrong,” Bucky took over. “You’re our kid now Peter. You may not have wanted us, but it’s too late. You went from a fever to severe pneumonia. You were out in the rain for hours, no shoes. You could have died.” 

The man was tense. “You’re just a kid, and we… we watched you leap out a window.”

“You’re a _child._ ” Steve repeated. “And you almost _died._ ”

Peter froze, looking between the two of them. Their words made sense, he was a kid. The alleyway came back to him, the shivering, unable to even sit up without causing terrible pain through his system. He was alone. He was a child.

Peter was shaking again, but this time it was the emotion. He could have died in the alleyway, thrown away everything his family had done for him. His uncle and aunt would have been so disappointed. He didn’t register the tears falling or the warm body that was pulling him into a half hug. 

“You’re okay,” this time, the words were comforting. 

Bucky carefully maneuvered to the other side of the bed, so that Peter was sitting gingerly between the two of them. When he’d calmed down enough to eat, Bucky was the one who helped spoon the soup into his mouth. They didn’t talk, just sat in the dimmed room with the sound of the television playing quietly throughout. 

“I’m… I’m scared,” Peter broke the silence, leaning against Steve and shaking his head when he could no longer stomach food. He knew that he should apologize for frightening them with his actions, but that would also be admitting that they were his guardians. That he was, in a sense, giving in. 

“It’s okay to be scared, just, let us help you, okay?” Bucky put the bowl to the side and smiled. 

Nodding his head, the teen leaned back between the two men and found himself drifting to sleep. But this time, as he slowly sank under, he felt safe and comfortably warm. The fever was breaking, and he wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm heading out of town, so I'll be updating when I get back. See you all in July and thank you for being awesome :) Hope you enjoyed!


	7. Solnishko

True to his word, Tony made sure that Peter was never left alone. Someone was always there to make sure he stayed in bed, and Steve would continuously help him to the bathroom. At first, Peter had been embarrassed, but fortunately it was Bucky that had finally convinced the man that Peter could be left alone for a few minutes to take care of himself. 

Even if they left the door slightly open in case they were needed. 

Peter had recognized that it was as much compromise as he was going to get, as the team of superheroes were far from trusting the teenage runaway from not attempting to bolt again. So, he had learned to move as quickly as his weak body would allow and not complain. He’d also stopped asking about his suit, knowing that it was a sore subject for all of them. It didn’t mean he’d given up though.

To everyone’s surprise, Peter’s favorite person that had taken to watching him when the worried three could not, was Natasha. 

The first time that Steve, Tony, and Bucky were called away for a briefing at the same time, she had been the only person in the building qualified to handle him. Clint had taken the others to his favorite ice cream spot, and she had stayed to enjoy a moment alone. 

Natasha had quickly assessed the situation when she’d watched two of the three men burst into the living room frantically searching for the team. 

“My turn,” she’d smirked quietly. 

Without waiting for a response, she had ignored the gawking Captain and the snort from Bucky and all but floated into the elevator. Steve at her heels. 

When the door had opened to reveal Tony sitting next to a sour faced Peter, the man had stood quickly and looked between Natasha and Steve in shock. He had opened his mouth to speak but froze when she had interrupted. “I’m here to watch the kid. You trust me, don’t you Stark?”

The tone had been innocent enough, but the fear that had suddenly radiated from the man next to Peter’s bed was evident. “Um, no protests... just um… don’t scar him? Kill him? Maim him?” 

When a brow lifted in response, Tony had let out a laugh that was clearly nervous before he turned his attention down to the teenager that was quickly recovering. “You listen to her kid, she’ll make sure you’re safe.”

And then he’d turned and all but ran away from the room, pulling the other two heroes with him as quickly as he could. The door had shut with a quiet protest from Steve, but Peter was hardly paying attention as he turned wide eyes at the woman in the room. 

He'd been protesting that he didn’t need a babysitter with Tony when the group had interrupted, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to say to someone who clearly intimidated the trio of men. 

Natasha waited only a moment before setting herself next to Peter on the bed, turning the television onto some old action film. 

Peter tilted his head as he stared at her, still at a loss for words on what to say to someone that clearly scared the men that had been hovering around him like hens for the last few days. It turned out he didn’t need to say anything, as she kept her attention on the film. 

It took a good half hour before Peter started to feel tired and found himself doing what he had gotten into the habit of doing with the men. He leaned to the side and rested his head on the woman’s shoulder. He didn’t expect Natasha to wrap an arm around him and pull him closer to her body. 

“These movies are terrible,” she explained, watching as the spy in the film couldn’t break out from a pair of flimsy handcuffs. “It’s not hard to get out of those.”

Peter frowned, turning slightly to gaze at her in curiosity. He couldn’t stop the words from coming out as he gently asked, “how would he get out of them? He doesn’t have the keys, are you suggesting he break his thumbs like those other gross movies?”

He had been surprised by the smile, but the quiet laugh was something else entirely. Leaning down Natasha procured a pair of handcuffs seemingly from nowhere, although Peter figured she likely carried a lot of things he wouldn’t be able to spot. 

“Put these on me,” she held out the handcuffs.

He put up a hand, shaking his head. “No, that’s okay Ms. Natasha,” he didn’t want anyone to think he was trying to get away by trapping an Avenger. 

“Then I’ll put them on you.” She grabbed Peter’s wrists before he could pull away and turned them to a certain angle before putting the cuffs on. 

He stared at her in shock for a moment before she grinned and turned his wrists. “When someone puts these on you, if you turn your wrists to this angle, you can twist your arms and have extra room left, see?” She held up the cuffs so that he could see that his hands could slip free from the metal without too much effort. 

Instead of removing the cuffs, she leaned down and picked up a pair of sneakers from the ground. “Let me show you how to unlock these with makeshift keys.” 

For the span of the three hours that Natasha had spent with him, she’d shown him a variety of ways to remove the handcuffs. Peter had lost all formality and had spoken openly to her. Natasha wasn’t frightening to him at all, in fact, she reminded him of a mother he could have never dreamt of having in real life. She wasn’t like Aunt May, but she was growing on him. 

When Tony had burst into the room after the briefing, trying and failing to look nonchalant, she and Peter had been curled up watching a comedy. 

She’d waited until Bucky had come into the room, allowed him to take her place, and then had surprised them all. Natasha had leaned down, given Peter a kiss on the temple, and spoken softly. “I will see you soon _Solnishko_ , anytime you need me.” 

With a wink she had disappeared out the door as soon as Steve had stepped into the frame, leaving behind three very confused men and a smiling Peter. 

After that, she had taken over several hours watching Peter. The two had bonded rather quickly and no one was sure what happened when they left them alone. Tony had been tempted to get footage from the room, but a single look from Natasha had quickly cancelled those plans. One thing they all knew for sure, at least Peter was safe with the spy watching over him. 

So, on another night when Natasha had taken over for the men, they took advantage and started to plan. 

The teenager had been kept in the dark of when he’d be allowed out of bed, so hadn’t known that he had been cleared by Bruce two days prior. Tony had suggested they keep it from the kid so that they could figure out a way to make sure Peter didn’t attempt to run off and do something reckless. 

It had taken some coaxing, but Bucky was always good at making Steve change his mind and no one had spoken a word. The rest of the team hadn’t stepped forward, Clint having shrugged and pretended he had his hearing aids out so that he could claim he hadn’t even heard the conversation. Vision didn’t know better, Wanda looked upset, and Bruce had simply shaken his head resigned. Thor and Sam had fortunately been out on a run (something Sam still regretted explaining as regular exercise to the thunder God) and hadn’t heard the conversation at all. 

Now the question was on what they would do, as they couldn’t confine the teen to the bed forever. They’d gathered the rest of the team in the guise that Bucky was cooking everyone dinner and started to brainstorm possibilities. 

“Trackers, all the time.” Tony suggested, having stopped midbite to throw the idea out. 

“We won’t gain his trust that way,” Steve shook his head. 

“Small trackers, he won’t know.” Tony rolled his eyes. 

“Someone can always be with him?” Steve suggested instead. 

“Yeah, like that will get him to trust us faster,” Sam snorted. 

“My brother could be of use in this situation?” Thor suggested, freezing when he got a resounding no from everyone at the table. “Sorry… he’s adopted,” he murmured the last part under his breath, but it was loud enough for Clint to smirk sitting next to him. 

“Tony, don’t you have a house in Malibu?” Clint asked. 

“Had, blown up and all that jazz. Why?” Tony raised a brow at the archer. 

“I mean, it’s not as cold in California this time of year. And we could all use a break… I mean, why don’t we go out there? To, you know, get away from all the skyscrapers?” Clint shrugged. 

“Are you having a stroke? You actually think Fury is going to let us just leave? And why would you want to leave the city, we can’t get Chinese at four in the morning out there.” Tony shook his head. 

Before the archer could retort, Bucky’s face lit up with realization. “No skyscrapers… I get it. That’s not a bad idea at all, and we could celebrate Christmas out there…. That’s actually a real good idea!”

When he saw Tony’s incredulous look going back and forth between himself and Clint, the soldier decided to elaborate. “We’ll be out of the city. Peter won’t leave the house because he won’t know the area. There won’t be any buildings to swing from, so doing anything as a vigilante will be out of question. We can get closer to him this way, gain that trust before we get back.”

Slowly the rest of the Avengers were warming up to the thought of leaving New York for a bit. “We could take a whole month, Fury has some back up help from those guys down in Hell’s Kitchen if he needs anyone. And it’s not like the Quinjet would take long to get us back out here if they needed our help.” 

“I’d love to see this California that you speak of,” Thor added in his two cents.

“And having a bonfire on the beach would be awesome,” Sam added. 

“We’d just need a place to stay,” Bruce continued as the voice of logic. 

Tony snorted, pushing back in his chair and stepping away from the table. “As if that’s hard. Alright, time to pack. Clint, Steve, you get to talk to eyepatch about this break. I’m going to get everything ready to go. We’re leaving first thing in the morning before anyone can change their minds.”

Without waiting for a reply, Tony turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall. 

Clint, looking like he would explode from excitement, jumped from the table with a cheer. “I call telling Peter!” He didn’t wait to hear the protest from Bucky or the overprotective mama bear, sprinting out of the room. 

The archer and the others hadn’t gotten to watch over Peter like the others, but they had all spent a little bit of time around the teenager and couldn’t wait to get him to open. Peter was still relatively quiet. He hadn’t exactly gotten over his mindset that he didn’t need the team that hovered over him and had taken to speaking only when he needed something or if he had a question. He had consistent nightmares that Bruce had explained came with his mild case of PTSD. The only one that had really broken the shell was Natasha, not that anyone understood how. 

Tony had found footage of Peter from the year before everything in his life had turned upside down. He had been a happy, cheerful kid. He was a chatterbox that was obsessed with all things science and had even gained the attention of a private high school before he’d dropped off the radar. They wanted to bring that kid back. 

Not bothering to knock on the door, Clint slammed open the bedroom door eliciting a scream from Peter and a raised brow from Natasha. The two were sitting on the ground, but Clint was too excited to notice that they were surrounded by Lego pieces until he’d stepped on a piece and fallen to the ground clutching his socked foot with a yowl of surprise. 

“Mr. Barton! Are you okay?” Peter had slightly jumped behind Natasha, but otherwise had a hand outreached to the man in his concern. 

“Great… wait, did you get Nat to build something with you?” He sat up, taking in for the first time that there were two structures set out in front of the teenager and the assassin. Was she sitting cross legged on the ground building a Lego set? Better yet, was she building a Star Wars droid?

“Um… yes sir.” Peter answered hesitantly. 

Clint’s smile spread over his entire face, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to say a word of what he was witnessing without having Natasha cut off something precious. Instead, he half crawled, half ran so that he was sitting directly on the opposite side of Peter’s structure. “I have two things to say.”

He picked up a nearby pillow and tossed it back so that the door slammed shut from prying eyes. “One, can I help you build this Death Star? And two, we’re going to go to the beach tomorrow! No more bed rest for you kiddo!” 

Peter raised a brow, not sure what to say. He looked at Natasha for help who merely shrugged and started back on putting together K-2SO’s chest plate. 

“You can help Mr. Barton,” Peter relented softly, knowing that while he liked this past time to be shared exclusively with Natasha, he couldn’t resist the puppy eyes he was being thrown from the man. “And the beach? Isn’t it too cold?”

Clint grinned again, already helping himself to a piece of the set. “Ever been to California kiddo? It’s fantastic!”

Peter, who had started to hesitantly start putting another piece on his side, froze and sat up. “California? We can’t… I mean…”

“I’ve been there a few times. Do you like food, I want to take you to my favorite food place,” Clint rambled. 

“It’s okay _Solnishko_ , I’ll be there too.” Natasha assured the boy gently. 

“But, I can’t just leave New York unguarded,” Peter whined. He already felt bad that he hadn’t patrolled in the mere week that he had been in bed.

“We’re going to have some other heroes step up for a little bit while we’re gone, they’ll watch over the citizens.” Clint explained quickly. “It’ll be okay.” 

Peter frowned and looked back and forth between the two before nodding. He didn’t seem to completely enjoy the idea, but he had seen what fighting the group would lead to. And if they got someone to watch over New York, he shouldn’t feel too guilty, right?

With a sigh the teenager turned back to building the Death Star with Clint, missing the soft smile the archer threw over his head at Natasha. While she hadn’t been present for the discussion, it wouldn’t have taken her long to catch on to what they were doing. 

She met his gaze and gave a very subtle shrug, not thrilled but knowing that it was likely the best idea they could come up with short of tailing Peter for the rest of his life. In a move that she would normally only show when she was alone with the teenager, the redhead reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> California adventures! I'm trying to keep this updated, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you so much for the wonderful comments and kudos! I really appreciate it and I'm glad you like this story! <3


	8. The Quinjet & The Beach House

There was absolutely no way that Peter could keep the awe from his face. He had already been taken by surprise when Tony had explained that there was no reason for them to use a regular airline when they had access to a faster vehicle, but to be facing the Quinjet was an entirely different thing. 

He stood frozen, never having seen an aircraft of such high caliber before. They had already packed all their belongings into a corner (Tony had claimed whatever didn’t fit could be bought while they were in California). The nice camera that they had bought Peter now hung around the teenager’s neck, Bucky insisting he take it with him. 

“You know, it’s not going to start moving until we’re onboard,” Clint teased from beside the teen. Having stopped when he noticed the awestruck thirteen-year-old. 

Breaking out of his stupor, the brunette nodded and pretended the light blush on his face was just a prolonged part of his fever as he scurried forward to the ramp. He had a backpack over one shoulder, a few things Natasha had insisted they pack for the trip, including a Lego set they had yet to build together. 

When he entered the space that had become tiny due to all their luggage, Peter realized that no one was sitting, but huddled up in a small group. Steve, seeing him standing idly as they chatted, grinned and steered towards the teenager. 

“Peter! You look ready to go!” He held out a hand, “let me take your bag and I’ll stick it with the other stuff.”

Reluctantly, Peter handed over the bag and watched as Steve deftly placed it in one of the top compartments of the aircraft. The blond then turned back to him, smile set in place as he put a reassuring hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

“We already got your seat ready,” as he spoke the rest of the team started to take their spots around the cabin. Natasha and Clint sat at the front of the Quinjet, the widow sending Peter a smirk over her shoulder. Bruce and Tony sat next to each other quietly discussing something, although Tony kept throwing glances his way to see how he was reacting to the aircraft. 

After being directed to a seat, Steve quickly buckled him up without waiting for Peter to do it. Bucky claimed the seat next to him with a wide grin, Sam pushing so that he was on Peter’s other side before the blond could do so. The man looked put out for a moment before rolling his eyes and squatting right down on the floor in front of the teenager like it was completely normal. 

Gazing around as the rest of the team found a place on the craft, Peter quickly realized he was the only person strapped in. 

“If there’s turbulence, we don’t want you to jar your ribs or that arm,” Bucky explained when he caught the sour look on the teenager’s face. 

Glancing down at his lap, Peter frowned at the arm that had a very light brace on it. After eating well for the entire week, his accelerated healing had kicked in. His ribs were almost completely fine if not a little sore, and his arm had retained some light bruising from the break. Everything else had virtually disappeared. 

While he had full access to his hand, he couldn’t put too much force on the arm until the bruising went down. It was why Bruce had insisted that they keep the light brace, not wanting to see any of the injuries get worse if something were to happen. 

“You ever fly kid?” Sam asked. 

Peter shook his head, suddenly grateful for the straps on his lap as he curled a fist around the belt. The ramp closed, and he watched as he could suddenly see the sky, eyes getting bigger at the sight. 

When the cabin gave a lurch as it lifted into the air, Peter couldn’t withhold a very small yelp. Seeing the startled look on the teenager’s face, Steve reached forward and pried the hand holding onto the belt into his own, offering his own reassurance. 

“This is totally normal,” he spoke gently. “It’s always bumpy when we first lift off.” 

Vaguely, Peter wondered if any of them knew about how Richard and Mary Parker had died. He knew that Tony had looked up as much history as he could on the teenager, but he also knew that his earlier years were a bit obscured from the records. Ben had once explained to him that the business his parents had been involved with required secrecy, and perhaps it was why Tony had only ever mentioned his uncle and aunt. 

When the Quinjet gave another lurch as it started to speed up, he instantly tightened his hand in Steve’s, unable to quell the shaking. His parents had died in a plane accident, what would stop that from happening to him?

Bucky didn’t hesitate in reaching over Peter’s shoulder and moving so that he had the boy plastered against his side. He shot Steve a look, not having expected the boy to be so spooked by something like a plane ride. After all, the kid swung from buildings with nothing to hold onto but webs, wouldn’t that be more frightening?

“Hey, did I ever tell you about the first time we had to drag Tony out of his lab?” Bucky asked, ignoring the sudden glare thrown his way from the engineer. 

Peter, having directed his gaze onto the floor, instantly looked up in interest. He shook his head, not trusting his voice to come out smoothly. 

“He didn’t think we were serious at first, so we had Natasha try to break in,” Bucky grinned. “But Jarvis stopped all entry… until Steve bribed him.”

“That wasn’t bribery, it was programming. He wouldn’t have listened to you otherwise.” Tony deadpanned. 

The soldier simply widened his grin, Sam taking over the story with a laugh. “As soon as the door open he set the bots on us! I almost got crushed by a fire hydrant if it hadn’t been for Bucky pulling me out of the way. Those bots were easier to bribe than Jarvis though, they listened quick.”

“Um…” Peter’s voice instantly set the men into silence. “Who… whose Jarvis?” 

Quickly they realized the kid had only ever met the female AI, and hadn’t really known about Jarvis. Tony got a wicked grin on his face before he lifted a finger and casually pointed at Vision, whom had been sitting quietly towards the ramp with Wanda in discussion. “He was,” he shrugged.

Following the direction Peter frowned when he realized the man was pointing at the quiet hero. He looked at Steve to see if the man would call Tony out on his lie, but he only received a shrug of agreement in response. 

“That’s a whole other story, for later.” Tony added. “Just know that Jarvis would not have been bribed, and at the time he was the AI, not F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

Despite his curiosity, Peter’s attention was brought back to the original story when Sam continued speaking. “So, Tony usually has music blasting in the lab, and Jarvis didn’t turn it off when we came in. He didn’t notice we were there. I’ve never seen someone jump so high.”

Bucky chortled before he continued. “Steve caught him before he could hit the ground, but instead of setting him on his feet he threw him over his shoulder. Dum-E, one of the bots, you’ll get to meet them eventually, decided that he needed to defend Tony. He sprayed the two of them with the fire hydrant.”

Sam was laughing so hard he had grabbed onto his stomach, the memory of the faces the two men had made was likely going to stay with him forever. Too bad Tony had kept the photo Jarvis had taken hidden from the group. 

Trying to describe the look, Bucky and the others continued to laugh. It was when they pulled a small giggle from the teen that they realized the method was working. So, the team continued passing on stories around the cabin, distracting the kid from the turbulence. 

Due to the craft being custom, it took them a lot less time to reach California from New York. It was only during the landing that Peter got distracted again. With a whimper he couldn’t hide, the kid turned as far as he could into Bucky. Taking pity, the man ignored the hissed warnings from the rest of the team and unbuckled Peter, pulling him so that Peter could sit with his face buried in Bucky’s shoulder. Steve took the now vacant seat to sit next to them and rub a hand up and down the brunette’s back. 

When the Quinjet shuttered a bit as it landed, Peter yelped like something had purposely scared him, body almost convulsing in the shaking. 

“Open the ramp!” Bucky hollered at Natasha, watching as she quickly pressed the button. 

He didn’t wait for the thing to completely open, carrying Peter and jumping so that they were on solid ground, Steve not far behind. 

Kneeling he placed Peter so that they were both crouching close to the floor and grabbed the good hand to slap against the ground. “We’re on land kiddo, come on, open your eyes for me, you’re on land.” 

It took several minutes, but when the brunette finally opened his eyes the flush that colored his face could only have been described as adorable. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky all but whispered, hand cupping Peter’s jaw so the kid couldn’t turn away. 

Nodding as much as the hand allowed, he used all his concentration to stand up straight. Steve held out his hands in case he stumbled but found that Peter was too stubborn to show a weakness after the ride. It was endearing in the sense that he was very much like Tony when the man got injured on the field and pretended everything was okay. Fortunately, it also meant Steve was used to dealing with the behavior. 

“How about we go check out the house?” Steve motioned towards the mansion that was in view of the open doors of the building that housed the craft. It seemed like Tony was full of surprises, and had built an even bigger place in California, ready to house them all. 

“The team will grab your stuff,” he added. “Come on.” Leaving the rest of the group to deal with the luggage, Bucky and Steve both stood on one side of Peter in case they needed to react quickly to the semi-distressed teen. 

Like Tony’s first home, this one was built directly facing the ocean. However, there was a good stretch of sand that served as a private beach on the property, with a small deck built to house what looked like a speed boat. The outside of the mansion seemed to consist mostly of windows, although they had special technology installed that fogged up so that people on the outside couldn’t see in, and unfogged if the house occupants pressed a button to the right of the front door. 

The house was three stories high, and consisted of several bedrooms with their own bathrooms, a gym, an indoor swimming pool, a garage that housed a number of luxury cars, two living rooms, a lab, an office, and a game room. On the front door, F.R.I.D.A.Y. greeted the trio, and facial recognition quickly unlocked the entrance. 

Peter took in the house like he had everything else, in awe. It was like stepping into a designer magazine, except with the personal touches that only came from the Avengers themselves, or an obsessed fan. Tony had hired someone to decorate so that the place was homey for the team and had even made it a point to make sure the person had a room set for Peter. 

“We’re on the top floor,” Tony’s voice broke his observations. “There’s an elevator or stairs, but let’s take the elevator.” The man had thrown several luggage pieces down, grumbling something about unhelpful super soldiers as he moved past them and led the way towards what looked like an ordinary wooden door. However, it slid sideways when he pressed a panel on the left and revealed a state of the art elevator like the one in the tower. 

The four of them crowded inside, the door slamming shut just as the rest of the team stumbled inside with the rest of the bags. Clint had let out an indignant squawk when he saw the door closing but didn’t try to rush forward as he threw the bags he’d had carried to the floor. 

When the doors opened, Tony led the group to a door at the end of the hallway. It was a huge room, possibly bigger than the one in the tower. A floor to ceiling window looked out at the beach and the dock. To the left end of the room, a door that led to a walk-in closet, to the right a bathroom. The bed was king sized against the far-left wall, a screen installed in the wall across from it to serve as a television. Everything done in hues of blue and cream. 

“Your room,” Tony grinned. “And we’re just down the hall. Why don’t you get settled and we’ll get some lunch out on the kitchen downstairs?”

The kid’s brows furrowed for a moment, turning to ask Tony which doors would lead to each Avenger’s rooms when he realized that they’d already stepped out and closed the door. With a sigh, Peter plopped down so he was sitting up facing the window. 

Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe… just maybe, he could try to be a little more involved with the group. 

He let himself collapse so that his legs hung off the side of the bed, where he was comfortable with just the top half on the mattress as he stared at the high vaulted ceiling. He had a window, that meant something. And he knows that if his aunt were to see him in such a place without taking some joy out of a small vacation, she would be disappointed. 

Aunt May had always wanted to go on a crazy adventure with him. She hadn’t gotten the chance. Peter closed his eyes and tried to envision her standing at the foot of the bed, what would she say? A sad smile graced his lips, and slowly he drifted off to sleep thinking on his family.

Down the hall, Tony ignored the concern expressed that they’d scare the kid if he found out about their sleeping arrangement. Steve was always a worrywart and it had gotten worse when he had started all but mothering Peter. 

“Sooner or later the kid is going to realize we’re together, just let it go.” Tony shrugged. 

“But, what if-” the protest was cut short as Bucky leaned over and kissed the blond, effectively shutting him up. 

“He’ll be fine. With everything the kid has gone through, this shouldn’t even phase him punk.” The brunette laughed when he got two raised eyebrows from both the men before he sauntered towards the door. “I’m going to go help Bruce make up some lunch, come down in a half hour and we can figure everything out for the trip.” 

Bucky didn’t wait for a reply, leaving the two men to unpack and argue amongst themselves.

The rest of the team had quickly found their own rooms, all located on the second floor. No one was complaining as the building was spacious and the decoration made it easy to figure out where each person was supposed to sleep. 

Bucky had grabbed the scientist on his way down, and the two had made a quick inventory of the food in the kitchen and a list of what they would need. Settling on simple sandwiches with chips, the men made quick work of lunch. 

And true to their word, a half hour later everyone minus Steve and Peter were converging into the kitchen. They had shared ideas on what they would like to do during their stay but agreed to let Peter have the final say as they wanted the kid to start feeling more involved. 

Upstairs, Steve wasn’t quite sure he wanted to wake Peter up. It was the first time in a while that he had seen the teenager resting so peacefully. Despite the awkward position, Peter wasn’t twitching in his sleep. His face looked calm and a small smile tugged the corner of his mouth. The blond imagined this was what he had looked like before everything had fallen apart. 

Knowing that Peter had to eat was the only reason he moved into the room and gently shook the boy’s shoulder.

Unlike most times, when Peter would wake with a jolt and sit up as if he were being attacked, the kid’s eyes fluttered several times before they settled on Steve. 

“Hey, lunch is ready kiddo,” he spoke gently. 

“Okay,” Peter murmured, rubbing at his eyes to take away the remnants of sleep. “Coming.” 

The way he mumbled the words made Steve want to bundle him up in blankets and hug him forever. He was too cute for his own good and all he wanted to do was cuddle the boy. 

Leaning down Steve silently removed Peter’s shoes so that he only wore socks, and then didn’t quell the urge to hug the rising kid into a bear hug. Something in his heart melting when instead of going rigid like he usually did at first, Peter settled into the hug almost instantly. Something in the kid’s demeanor had changed in the short time he’d been alone in the room, but he didn’t know what had caused it. 

Peter, on the other hand, could only hear the words his family had spoken to him in his dreams. That he wasn’t leaving them behind, but that he needed to keep moving. That it was okay to want family, to want affection. That they loved him, and everything that was happening was okay. 

It didn’t mean the nightmares were over, only that they were not at the forefront for the time being. 

Wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, Steve led the still waking boy from the room and down to the elevator. He didn’t bother to offer using the round staircase just a little way away, wanting to cherish the cuddling mood the brunette seemed to be in. 

He led Peter straight to the kitchen and into one of the four stools available at the counter of the large kitchen. Natasha, Clint, and Bruce had taken the other three chairs while the rest of the room occupants had settled on counters, the floor, or just leaned against the wall. 

A huge sandwich was placed in front of him, an unopened bag of chips next to it. “Eat up, you’re almost completely healed and when you’re cleared we can do some real fun stuff.” Clint chirped, biting into his already half eaten sandwich. 

“Thank you,” Peter murmured, reaching forward and taking a bite. 

They ate in a comfortable silence, waiting until the teen started working on his chips before speaking. “Peter, we were trying to figure out some of the things we could do while we’re out here. We wanted to get your thoughts too.”

Peter looked surprised but nodded after a moment of hesitation. 

“We have to go swimming,” Sam immediately supplied. 

“Shopping, there are some awesome markets out here,” Tony added. 

“Hollywood, I’m dying to see that tourist trap,” Bucky grinned. “I hear there’s a piano staircase.”

“Theme parks, hands down,” Clint supplied. “Actually, if I’m not mistaken aren’t we close to-” He was cut off by Tony who vehemently shook his head when he realized what the man was suggesting. There was no way they were going to a place that was so crowded that it could cause someone to go into a panic attack. 

“I won’t do the theme park, too many people. How about those food places you always rant about?” Tony suggested instead. 

And soon enough they were all throwing out their ideas of activities they either had experienced or heard about in the area, and Peter simply sat and smiled as he listened. Maybe he could open up to them in time… just maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the awesome kudos and comments, hope you're enjoying :)   
> This felt a little like a filler chapter, but I still enjoyed a little bit of it. Stuckony it is.


	9. Scary Movies

Peter sat between Bucky and Steve, face buried in a pillow as he tried to hide the fact that he absolutely could not handle the movie on the screen. Having declared a lazy day, the team found themselves curled into the huge theater room, or as Tony dubbed it, “the second living room.” 

He didn’t want them seeing the main living room, as it had been decorated with a large Christmas tree and that was something he wanted revealed to Peter when the boy was completely relaxed with the rest of the team. 

Peter had gotten to choose the first film and had struggled before settling on the original Jurassic Park when he learned that half the room had never seen it. The film graphics were good, but not enough to freak Peter out. Tony had chosen an action film next, and then Clint had popped up and declared it was his turn. He had quickly popped in a scary movie, wiggling his brows that it was one of the best. 

Peter, whom had been relatively relaxed on the couch, had been in his own little world and had missed the announcement of the title and genre. So, when the film started, he quickly realized that the pillow he’d been using to lean back on was going to become a shield. He was sitting close to the soldiers but leaning against them would be a sign of real trust that he wasn’t sure he was ready for yet. 

However, it was hard to hide his little jumps, or the fact that his face was getting more and more hidden in the pillow. When Steve moved to get more comfortable, Peter almost jumped a foot in the air as the man made contact with his body in the process. 

Not saying a word about his obvious fear, Steve only settled down a little closer to the teen. On his other side, Bucky also shifted to get more comfortable, body closer to the kid. 

When the music of the film started to play, an unquestionable warning of what was to come, Peter’s hands tightened on the pillow. He didn’t even hear it rip apart, so caught up in attempting not to make a sound. He didn’t notice an arm wrap around his shoulders, another hand softly rubbing his back. He only came to the realization when the arm pulled him so that Peter was completely plastered against Bucky.

Taking only a second, Steve was pressing in on the other side so that their bodies practically blocked his view from the television. If anyone looked at them, it appeared as if he were cuddling the super soldiers, not using them as blocks from the screen. 

He still jumped a bit with the sounds but was extremely grateful for not having to watch the film. Scary movies had always dug deep into his bones, especially since he couldn’t fight what was scaring him. Anything bloody that he couldn’t fight was something he just didn’t want to see, since he already disliked senseless violence as a principle. 

When the movie came to an end in what felt like hours, Tony immediately announced that he got to choose again because it was his house that everyone got to stay in. There were some mild protests, but it ended quickly when he chose a simple comedy. 

The man didn’t mention that he had noticed what the two men had started to do or that Peter had been scared out of his skull. He also didn’t mention noticing that Peter jumped sky high when the doorbell rang announcing the arrival of their food. 

“First place on your list,” Tony nodded towards Clint, whom had jumped up immediately in enthusiasm for the meal. 

Without waiting for the rest of the team, the man disappeared down the hall only to make an appearance a few minutes later carrying several bags filled with food. “Pause the movie, the best Chinese food on this side of the coast has arrived!”

Tony rolled his eyes, but with the help of Clint and Sam handed everyone their own meal. Movie night quickly became happy comedies and easy-going sci-fi films, nothing too dark so that Peter wouldn’t end up even more scared than he already had been. 

When everyone split up, agreeing that the food was pretty good (Tony argued he’d had better), Bucky walked Peter to his own room. It wasn’t that everyone was going to bed, but they had set a time for the thirteen-year-old to sleep and that was something they were sticking to.

Steve had done some research and learned that adhering to a schedule when it came to raising kids tended to help in the child’s development. And while Peter was already practically a teenager, he hadn’t had structure in a long time and they wanted to make sure that they did everything to the best of their abilities. Even if their main reason for going to California wasn’t the most honorable if anyone looked at it closely. 

“Would you like me to spend the night like we did in the tower, or are you okay on your own tonight?” Bucky asked softly, now that they no longer had to worry about Peter running off into the night trying to save a city that was across the country. Plus, with the amount of land Tony owned, Peter would have to travel quite a way to get to another big city.

“I can sleep alone,” Peter answered after a moment, hearing his aunt’s voice in his head that he should ask the man to stay but refusing to do so with what little pride he still had left. 

“Okay,” Bucky started towards the door but paused for a moment. “But Peter, if you need anything, and I mean anything, it doesn’t matter what time it is, we’re just down the hall. The door right across from the elevator, one knock is all it takes, okay?” 

Clearly waiting for a response, Bucky didn’t leave until Peter nodded his head. When the man was finally gone, and the door was closed tightly behind him, the boy let his shoulders sag down. Peter could make out his reflection in the glass of the window and couldn’t stop the frown that pulled down the tip of his lips. 

Aunt May would be happy, but would Uncle Ben? 

He wasn’t helping anyone but himself, and that was selfish. He had been gifted with powers that others could only dream of, and now he was relaxing in a California mansion with a group of heroes that concerned themselves with the big problems. 

Glancing down at his body, at the wrapped-up arm, Peter sighed. “I’m sorry uncle Ben…” He murmured very gently. “I’m not giving up… but…. I have to… I have to get better first.” He glanced up at the glass in front of him, a determined glint shining in his eyes. He vowed right then that he would allow himself the time in California, that he would learn from the heroes, and he would return better. He’d return stronger. Spider-man would be back, and he would be the best he would ever be, even if he didn’t mention it to the group that was obviously against the thought of the vigilante. 

With a nod at himself, Peter turned tail and changed in the bathroom. He made quick work of brushing his teeth and throwing on the ridiculous pajamas Tony had packed for him (he could only hope there were more). Hello Kitty was not his style, and the survivor shirt was just ridiculous. The genius had claimed it suited him.

Curling under the covers Peter faced the window and let the soothing silence of the house send him off to sleep. The frightening films forgotten, at least for the first few hours.

In the middle of the night a large storm crept over the house, lightening and thunder shaking the foundation. Peter awoke with a start when a strike of lightening hit the sand just outside of the house, his room practically turning into day for a moment. 

He yelped at the sound, sitting up and looking around the room. When another flash of lightening hit the room, he could have sworn a small boy was staring at him from the corner of the room with bright red eyes. Peter threw the covers over his head, trembling. The next flash brought the pitter patter of rain, but he swore it was the sound of a child’s footsteps moving in his direction. 

With another yelp Peter flung the covers in the direction of where he had seen the child to stop it from attacking him, feet scrambling to stay beneath him as he all but sprinted out of his room. He slammed his fist on the door down the hall, throwing glances towards his open door hoping someone would help before whatever was after him appeared again.

Another flash of lightening and he would vow that a figure appeared in his doorway, his pounding getting more frantic. 

“What’s happeni-” Steve started, managing to barely dodge the fist that was raised to slam against the door again. He looked half asleep, in only a pair of sweatpants as he gazed wide eyed at the shaking teen. 

“Peter, you okay?” He asked gently.

The brunette froze, looking at the blond for only a moment before directing his gaze to the other two forms that were quickly stepping forward from behind him. Tony, in sweats and a loose t-shirt, and Bucky, also shirtless in nothing but sweatpants.

For a moment, Peter forgot why he had come down the hall, frozen as he gazed at the men in front of him. But then the lightening hit again, the hallway revealing his now empty doorway and Peter was reminded that something was most definitively hunting him. 

Without waiting for an invitation, Peter pushed right into Steve and slammed the door behind him, panting helplessly. “There’s a… there’s someone in my room!”

Bucky straightened immediately, throwing himself out into the hallway despite Peter’s protests, Steve following right behind as both men went to investigate what Peter had seen. 

Tony’s hand was instantly covered in the gauntlet, one arm wrapping around Peter and holding the teen to his chest as he waited for the other two to return. He was so focused on potential threats he didn’t even notice Peter curling into him, trying to hide away from the world. 

A few silent minutes passed before both men returned, looking somewhat amused. 

“Peter, what did the person in your room look like?” Bucky asked gently. 

It took a moment, but then the teen whispered what he had seen. About the child with red eyes, and the black figure that had been standing in the doorway. Tony whistled, also suddenly grinning, gauntlet disappearing back into his watch. “Okay, no more scary movies for Peter.”

“What?” Peter pulled back, looking confused. “But there was…”

“The storm probably scared you kiddo, that’s all. There was no one in your room,” Steve explained gently. “The movie didn’t help either.”

“I wasn’t scared of that movie,” Peter immediately protested. 

“Okay kid,” Tony snorted. “So, you’re okay with going back to your room, alone?”

“But there was someone in there! Someone hunting me! I swear!” He pulled back, looking somewhat offended if not shocked that they were taking his fear so lightly. “I can’t go back in there!”

Steve smiled gently, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulder so that he could steer him towards the door. “I’m going with you kid, don’t worry, no one will hurt you.”

“But… it’s in the room,” Peter protested weakly. “We can’t… what if…”

“Just spend the night in here,” Bucky shrugged. “The bed’s big enough.” He threw a look at Peter, ignoring that Tony had already turned back and all but collapsed into bed with a laugh. “The three of us can protect you, right?”

Peter frowned, looking between the three of them, obviously unsure what to say. He didn’t want to get in their way. 

Seeming to hear his thoughts, Steve steered the kid so that he was next to the bed, quickly lifting him so that he was curled up right next to Tony. Then he got in right after Peter and watched as Bucky curled up on Tony’s other side. 

Peter jumped as thunder rumbled over the house again but settled as a blanket was thrown almost to his chin, unable to see past the bodies curled around him. If something was truly trying to get to him, it would have to go through some very sturdy walls. 

The men started to murmur to each other, speaking gently until the sound of their voices slowly allowed him to drift. Body falling heavily into the mattress, the thunder and lightening losing their power as he relaxed into the warmth around him. 

He woke in the morning to a mostly empty bed, finding that Steve and Tony had both disappeared. However, Bucky still rested on the bed. The man was awake, using a Stark pad to read as he relaxed near the kid. His flesh fingers were running smoothly through Peter’s hair. 

When Peter made a move to glance over, Bucky sent him a smirk as put down the Stark pad. “Finally awake?” He didn’t stop his gentle caress, and Peter didn’t protest when he found it entirely too soothing. 

“Tony claimed he had to go make sure the lab was up to date. Steve is probably downstairs cooking breakfast at this point with Sam after their run, so I figured I’d wait until you woke up.” The man smiled gently. “In case that scary demon kid came back, you know?” He teased.

Peter blushed only slightly, burying his face in the pillow with a quiet groan. “When you see the kid, you’ll get why he was scary,” he quietly sassed in return. 

Bucky laughed, getting out of the bed and stretching. 

“Come on kid, let’s go get breakfast and then we can go spend sometime on the beach!” When Peter curled down so that he could practically hide in the sea of covers, pretending to be part of the bed, the soldier didn’t wait. 

With a laugh Bucky used both arms to curl under Peter and lifted him, sheets and all, bridal style into his chest. The kid looked like a burrito, the motion having wrapped him up completely so that just the tip of his eyes could peek out from the hold. 

Bucky grabbed the elevator down, carrying Peter all the way into the kitchen where most of the group was already gathered around the main table off to the side. The smell of coffee and bacon permeated the air, Sam flipping pancakes onto a platter next to Steve who seemed to be working diligently on a huge pan of eggs. 

Depositing Peter and the covers into a chair, Bucky grinned at Natasha’s raised brow before moving off to grab some coffee for himself and the kid. 

“Why is there a giant burrito sitting next to me?” Clint asked, looking like he’d just woken up as he stared at the wild haired teen beside him. 

Shuffling so that the covers fell to his waist, Peter managed to break free and relax back into the seat. He made grabby hands at the mug that Bucky brought back, and instantly started to sip on the sweet concoction instead of acknowledging Clint’s jibe. 

“Bacon or sausage Peter?” Steve called out from the kitchen. 

“Bacon!” Clint instantly screamed back in return before the teen could process the call. Bucky slapped the back of the archer’s head as he took the other seat next to the kid. 

“Um…” Brown eyes focused on his mug, like he was trying to solve the world’s hardest equation instead of answering a simple question. 

“You want both?” Bucky suggested softly, wanting the kid to be aware that he also had that choice.   
Peter merely nodded, letting the soldier yell back his choice as he curled further into the blankets and chair. His legs lifted into his chest so that he was curled into a ball, the liquid keeping him nice and warm. 

“Stark, you’re a bad role model,” Clint commented dryly, getting hit on the back of the head by the genius whom had finally stalked over from his lab to sit next to Bruce. The man was going to make an effort with their time in California. 

As most of the team (minus Wanda and Vision whom had disappeared on their own earlier that morning) took a seat, the conversation quickly picked up. Per usual, Peter didn’t talk much while he listened to the conversations happening around him. 

It wasn’t until he caught on that they were debating about going swimming that he figured he should talk. “You do realize that it’s still too cold to swim right? Despite being on this side of the country?” He was young, he wasn’t stupid. 

He got startled looks from everyone minus Stark, who just looked amused beyond belief. The sleepy god of thunder was the one to speak up into the silence that followed. “The water cannot be too bad, after all, Tony claims that he has suits that will keep us warm, do you not?”

Tony laughed, shrugging. “Sure, big guy.” It was clear that the man wasn’t saying something, ignoring the furrowed brows thrown his way. 

“We’re going to have a beach day, kid.” He faced Stark whom was grinning, “and you can be all bundled up and warm so that you won’t get cold. But obviously, Thor can handle the water because he’s a God.”

Clint huffed. “I’ll make you a bet! I can guarantee you I can stay in the ocean longer than Thor!”

“Better bet,” Tony countered. “Whomever stays in the water the longest gets to choose our next activity, and it can be anything.”

Like fish to the bait Bucky, Clint, Thor, and Sam all jumped at the bet. The others shaking their heads at the stupidity that they were witnessing. Natasha pursed her lips and nodded at Peter, “I’ll watch from the shore with spider-kid.” 

She grinned at Peter, pleased when she got a soft smile in return. 

Thor jumped up, “then let us go, so we can start this day!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super excited about this chapter, but I did enjoy writing it. Thank you for the kudos and the comments! :)


	10. The Water Contest

Pulling the hood closer to his face, Peter tried to hide the fact that he had underestimated exactly how cold the weather was going to be. They had set up chairs on the dock near the house, so that no one was sitting on the wood, and the wind had seemed to pick up the second they settled down. 

When everyone had moved to get ready in their respective outfits, Peter had thrown on a pair of dark blue jeans, black converse, a t-shirt, and a dark gray hoodie with “Stark Industries” written in cursive across the chest. Tony had insisted that he bundle up more with a beanie, scarf, and gloves. Peter had rolled his eyes and claimed that he was from New York, and he wouldn’t be that cold. Thus, winning the argument despite Steve’s worried expression. 

Besides, the kid had argued, some of his real personality shining through, he would use one of them if he needed a wind breaker. 

With a laugh, Tony had agreed and pushed both Peter and Steve towards the elevator, claiming he’d lead the group of crazy ducklings to the water when they were ready.

Having taken a cue from the kid, Steve had dressed in similar attire. He had the same dark colored jeans, sneakers, a shirt, and a dark blue hoodie with his shield emblem embroidered on the bottom corner. Unlike Peter, he was basically a walking furnace and didn’t worry too much about the wind, even though he did hate the cold. 

They’d made a pit stop by the kitchen, watching as Natasha poured four cups of steaming hot chocolate she had made from scratch. She’d handed one cup to each of them, and then pivoted and started out of the kitchen with her own cup. The fourth one had been left on the kitchen counter, just out of view so that Bruce could grab it without having any of the other team members steal it. 

The trio had wandered off to the dock, taking their prospective seats so that they were facing the side in which the others would jump. Both Avengers had placed the kid between them, sitting rather close to each other as they all sipped at their drinks. 

Not trying to show the fact that he was shivering, Peter tired to subtly lean closer to the super soldier next to him. There was no surprise when Steve noticed the action and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around the kid’s shoulder. It was due to the fact that he had already received way too many Captain America hugs that Peter didn’t try to act like he didn’t like the action. In fact, the kid simply pushed his chair against the other man’s and leaned so that he was comfortable against Steve’s side. 

He startled only for a moment when Bruce all but sprinted across the dock, cup of hot chocolate steaming in one hand as the man tried to beat the five men behind him. Knowing that they’d saved a chair for him, Bruce instantly took a seat and grinned at Natasha, holding his cup with both hands to stay warm. 

Tony, dressed in a heavier jacket but otherwise still half in pajamas, proudly lead the group behind him. Bucky and Sam both worth plain black swim trunks, Clint wore dark purple ones, and Thor had on a ridiculous neon blue pair. The men were barefoot, and by the looks on all their faces the cold was seeping through their skin the minute they contacted the wood of the dock. 

Peter had to muffle an amused laugh at the sight, completely expecting the men to chicken out and give up on their quest to jump into the water. He was surprised when the group came to a stop and faced the edge of the dock, staring down at the ocean with nothing but sheer determination. 

“Alright, what are the rules for this little contest?” Sam asked, turning to face the chairs and Tony with a raised brow. 

“Easy bird boy, whomever gets out of the water last, wins,” Tony shrugged. 

“And you have to be in the water up to your neck,” Natasha added with a wicked smile. 

“You can’t push anyone out of the water, that’s cheating,” Bruce was also quick to supply. 

“Last chance to opt out,” Steve murmured softly. “You sure you want to do this Buck? You’re looking mighty cold.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the man, turning his back to the group and getting ready to jump into the cold. As if on cue everyone but Clint turned to face the water, looking as if they were facing a battle. 

Grinning at the confused looks that were thrown his way, Clint nodded his head towards the teenager cuddled up next to Steve. “Pete can count us in, I don’t trust you not to try to pull something.” With that the man pivoted on the spot to face the water like the rest of the group. 

Tony threw a hand over his chest like he had been hurt, a mock gasp on his face. However, it didn’t take long for Peter to set the cup away from his lips and start the countdown, still fully expecting someone to chicken out.

However, when all four bodies jumped at three, he couldn’t stop a giggle as screams of joy turned into shrieks of horror. High pitched yelps as the men came to the realization that the water was a lot colder than any of them could have begun to anticipate. 

“I guess you have to call Bucky popsicle from now on Tones,” Steve teased gently as he watched the men attempt to stay warm in the water. 

Everyone had moved so that they were neck deep, teeth chattering as they hugged themselves. Sam and Bucky were shooting glares at each other while Thor laughed and chattered on about his brother. Clint looked steadily at the water, unwilling to look away so he wouldn’t lose concentration to stay warm. 

Tony had taken a blanket and set it down in front of the chairs, sitting down and not daring to look away in case one of the men decided to cheat. It took a half hour before anyone started to falter, looking towards the house and then at the water as if debating whether they should get out or not. 

To everyone’s surprise, it was Bruce that started to loudly exclaim how he had run out of hot chocolate, and how excited he was that there was more waiting in the kitchen. He elicited several laughs from Peter when he started to observe how cozy the kid looked next to the human furnace, and how warm he probably was all bundled up and cuddled. 

Sam, with a curse that had Steve making a sound of disapproval, suddenly swam forward and sprang onto the dock. He ignored the glare thrown his way by Steve and stomped towards the house, claiming that at least he’d get the hottest water in the shower. 

Another fifteen minutes later and Bruce finally lost interest, claiming he had a research paper he had to finish writing. He sauntered off to tinker in the lab that Tony had provided for him, taking the empty cups from the group before he left. 

Natasha had rose from her seat and was crouched in front of the water, her grin shark-like as she did not look away from her partner in crime. They had been trained to withstand several situations in their years working together for SHIELD, but to not be on an actual mission changed the motivation completely. 

The man finally released a scream of frustration before hoping out of the water, glaring openly at the grinning redhead. He then took a moment to shake off some of the cold onto Natasha, which had both sprinting towards the house. One in fear for his life, the other going after said life. 

With only two people left in the water, the atmosphere got quiet rather quickly. Steve and Peter moved so that they were curled on the blanket with Tony instead of the chairs, using one blanket to cover the teen completely as he was pulled to curl up in Steve’s lap. Another half hour passed before Peter fell asleep in the warmth and comfort of Captain America’s arms. 

Taking the opportunity of the kid being out like a light, Tony stood and moved towards the edge of the dock, grinning like a madman. Bucky was an enhanced soldier, and Thor was a God, the competition would last forever if they didn’t get one of the two out of the water.

“Hey, if you come out right now and admit defeat, I’ll do whatever you want me to do tonight.” Tony offered, wiggling his brows at the now amused looking soldier. 

“You do whatever I want most of the time, doll.” Bucky drawled, teeth chattering only slightly as he threw a grin at the smaller brunette. Somehow, no one was surprised that Tony would start throwing out offers when Peter was asleep, it meant the kid wouldn’t hear any of it. And while their relationship wasn’t a secret to the rest of the team, anything implying the bedroom wasn’t meant for the ears of a thirteen-year-old. 

“I’ll cook for a whole week straight,” Tony countered. “All my Mama’s best recipes.”

It took less than a second before Bucky was jumping onto the dock, looking absolutely pleased at the idea of eating the meal that Tony created. While the man wasn’t the best in the kitchen, there were certain things he could make that were unlike anyone else’s meals. Problem was, Tony rarely liked to be in the kitchen so tasting the superb dishes were few and far between. 

“Alright Thor, you win.” He threw over his shoulder, quiet enough to not wake Peter but loud enough so that his voice carried to the Thunder god whom was steadily wading back towards the dock. 

Bucky sauntered towards Tony, ignoring the protest and complaints as he wrapped the man in a hug and gave him a kiss that quickly silenced him. When he pulled back, Tony wrinkled his nose and shivered a bit as the cold water started to seep into his own outfit. 

“Help me clean up and get warm?” Bucky offered with a smirk. “While Thor decides what we do today, yeah?” 

Tony didn’t hesitate to take him up on the offer, winking at Steve as he all but sprinted behind a grinning Bucky into the house. 

With some careful maneuvering, Steve managed to lift Peter into his arms without waking him. The blanket had helped and kept him cozy enough so that the movements only caused quiet grumbles of complaint before the kid settled down in his arms. 

“Any idea what you’re going to want to do today Thor?” Steve asked gently, not wanting to disturb the kid. 

The man merely grinned at him and waved a hand, starting towards the house with Steve at his heels. He wasn’t known for tact when it came to the volume of his voice, but even Thor understood the importance of Peter trusting them in his act of sleep and spoke gently.

“Whatever Peter wants to do, I will be fine with. We have not given him many choices, and I feel as if trust must first be gained by giving it back. I trust he will pick something suitable for us all to enjoy.” Thor disappeared into the house, missing the flash of guilt and gratefulness thrown his way. 

Finding that everyone had gone off to get themselves ready for the day (even if it was already close to noon), Steve settled himself and Peter into the theater room. He had tucked the kid into a throw pillow and moved to grab a sketchpad before he’d come back and maneuvered so that Peter was resting his head on his lap. He’d removed both Peter’s shoes and his own. 

Steve had quietly asked FRIDAY to turn on a quiet movie and begun to indulge in his own hobby. Truly relaxing in a home that wouldn’t randomly start buzzing with an alarm for its heroes. 

Slowly, the group started to filter into the room. Bucky making his way over to the couch where Steve sat sketching and lifting Peter’s legs, so he could share the space. Tony had taken a seat next to Bruce as the two quietly discussed something that the scientist had been working on. They raised the volume of the film a bit, but one by one the group settled quietly in the theater room. 

It was to the feeling of a hand running through his hair that Peter woke to, his brain not quite processing the situation as he curled further into the warmth and comfort offered to him. There was a distinct feeling in his gut that something wasn’t right, and he released a small whimper as his hand curled on the shirt of the person he was laying on. 

A voice quietly shushed him, the hand trying to force him further into the land of nod. Peter’s eyes squeezed, and with a shaky voice quietly questioned, “Aunt May?” 

The hand froze for only a moment, and he finally made out the sound of other hushed voices. With a start Peter sat up so quickly that the room spun for a moment, the blood draining from his head as he tried to grab a hold of his surroundings. 

He couldn’t focus on anything, everything spinning and closing in. Peter moved to throw his hands over his eyes when he found that his wrists were trapped at his waist. With a yelp, he realized that he couldn’t breathe. No matter how hard he tried, it was like oxygen had simply given up on him. 

It took several minutes for Peter to recognize a hand rubbing his back, a soothing voice speaking to him. Someone had released his hand from what he would later recognize as the twisting blanket and placed it on top of a chest. They were telling him to follow the rhythm of their own breath, to relax.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Steve’s voice spoke softly, over and over.

When Peter’s situation finally dawned, and his breathing started to return to normal, he lifted his eyes to meet those of Tony Stark. The man looked like he was going to start having his own panic attack at any moment, looking at the kid with more concern then Peter thought possible. 

“I’m okay,” Peter gently repeated Steve’s words. “I’m okay now.” 

Waiting a moment to make sure Peter was truly okay, Tony stepped back from the couch with a relieved sigh, not protesting when Bucky removed himself from where he sat to hug the billionaire from behind. 

Feeling the heat slowly rising on his face to turn his face a nice shade of pink, Peter didn’t protest when Steve turned him so that he was buried in the man’s chest in a large hug. In fact, the kid instantly curled into the hug so that he could hide his face and bask in the warmth. 

“So… kid. Thor let you choose what we’re going to do,” Sam finally broke the silence of the room, trying to quickly evade the topic from Peter’s obvious discomfort at having them all witness a moment of weakness. 

Peter’s brow furrowed, and he unburied himself long enough to stare at the group of Avengers with a look of confusion. He then turned his gaze to Thor, who looked far too comfortable strewn across the floor in front of the television. 

“I can’t do that, you won the contest.” He conceded, wondering what the god was up to. 

“Yes, and as the person who gets to choose, I want you to make the decision. After all, you are more accustomed to Midgardian traditions than I.” The man grinned, shrugging as he relaxed on his back to stare at ceiling. 

Peter instantly shrunk into Steve, not sure how to handle the sudden power the group had given him. “Um… I don’t… I don’t know…” What if he chose the wrong thing and they got mad? What if they treated him badly because he made the wrong decision. 

Seeing the panic slowly enveloping the kid once more, Tony took a quick step forward. He held up a Stark pad that had a list of available activities in the area. “We pooled together everything we wanted to do in the area, with some input here and there. Why don’t you look at this and you can pick? I would say stick to the evening activities considering it’s almost three.” 

Peter gazed down at the pad, taking it gingerly from the man’s hold so he could look at it more closely. He noticed that the list had times listed next to each activity, so he could pick between them. Glancing through the list, Peter’s eye caught on a Christmas fair that was held annually at a pier nearby. It celebrated the holiday with traditional treats, a photo op with Santa Clause, and typical fair games and rides, like the Ferris Wheel. 

“How about this one?” He pointed to it, letting Tony take over when the man saw what he was pointing to. 

“That’s fantastic Peter!” The billionaire exclaimed, suddenly getting the brilliant idea that at the end of the night they could reveal the completely decorated family room to the kid. Hell, he’d already started to order several gifts for the holiday. 

“You ready to go kiddo? ‘Cause we can get on the road now and spend a few hours out there!” Tony jumped to his feet, already getting the rest of the group up and moving. 

Peter nodded, somehow finding that he didn’t want to let go of his cuddles with the blond. He was silently relieved when Steve quietly caught on and wrapped his arm so that he could keep Peter plastered against him as they moved towards the garage. The kid let a soft smile peek through the corner of his lips, finding that he was enjoying the company. 

Everyone seemed content on his decision, chatting as they moved as a unit towards the garage. Thor had even clapped Peter gently on the back, claiming he’d always wanted to see how the holiday was celebrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this one, and I'm sure the next one will be fun too. Thank you for the kudos and the comments. Don't worry, while the family atmosphere is great, Peter isn't going to just completely forget what happened. And I mean... he doesn't really know why they chose California... yet.... :)


	11. The Fairgrounds

“If I don’t make it to see Christmas, I’m killing you!” Sam screeched towards the front of the car, his hands wrapped tightly around the seat cushion beneath him. 

The only response he got back in return was a laugh, Tony deciding that it was best not to face the group of half terrified heroes behind him. He was also grateful that Natasha didn’t seem to mind the speed in which the van was flying, looking bored rather than scared. 

When they’d piled into the large vehicle, Sam had made the mistake of commenting on how it looked like a soccer van. He and Clint had then proceeded to giggle about how Tony was finally becoming a true soccer mom, driving the kids to an event for the night. 

Hearing the jeers, Tony had responded with a grin and then had sped up the car so that it was flying down the street. And while it wouldn’t have been completely frightening if they had been on a regular road, the vehicle kept going precariously close to the side of cliffs that looked down into the ocean. 

Even Peter had turned and buried his face into Steve, using Bucky’s body to hide the window from view.

Tony had succeeded in his ultimate goal, as Clint and Sam had gone from laughing like school girls to screaming like them. 

The car finally came to a screeching halt in the parking lot, sliding into the two lines like Tony was a professional driver. He didn’t bother telling them that he had learned to drive like a madman when he was younger and partying like crazy. He’d learned quickly that ruining Howard’s cars was a big no-no. 

Peter was the first to realize the car was actually stopped, throwing himself towards the door as quickly as his body allowed. He accidently elbowed a laughing Bucky, crawled over a concerned Steve, and pushed Sam back in his haste to make it outside. 

The second the teens feet hit gravel, he was on the ground releasing what little he’d eaten that day. Seconds later he heard someone doing the same thing nearby, and figured it was Sam when the following curses were murmured so angrily under the man’s breath that he was sure Steve wouldn’t have been able to make it out. 

“Who the hell let him drive!” Sam finally shrieked, using a stumbling Clint as a crutch to get off the ground. “Seriously, you’re horrible!” 

An indignant huff sounded from closer to the van, “I am not that bad of a driver!” Tony growled back. 

Peter managed to finally turn himself slightly, although the trembling hadn’t stopped as he tried to desperately catch his breath. Fortunately, Steve had followed him out of the car and gently grasped his shoulders to lift him to his feet. The blond was likely the main reason Peter wasn’t falling over yet. 

“You guys panicked too easily, I had it under control. It’s not like we went off the side or anything.” 

Sam glowered, “I hate you.”

“I love you too birdy,” Tony was quick. The keys twirling around his fingers as he turned towards the entrance of the fairgrounds where they had started to accumulate an audience. 

The billionaire let out a whistle, “so much for remaining inconspicuous.” 

They’d all donned hats, hoodies, glasses, anything to make them stand out less. Peter had been the only one to point out that they just looked like they were trying to hide, and it would be easier to let themselves be recognized. 

“I literally saw my life flash before my eyes today Stark. Literally,” Sam added, although he was now standing on his own and glaring daggers at the brunette. 

All he received in return was a careless shrug before Tony moved around to grab a hold of Peter and tug him away from Steve. He quickly got the kid moving, dragging him forward towards the grounds and leaving the others to realize that he wasn’t going to wait for them. 

“I already bought tickets for me and Petey, I’ll see you guys inside.” He drawled, not bothering to look back at the squawk from Clint. 

“Don’t look back kid, they’ll catch up.” Tony grinned, “besides, Bucky has the tickets.” 

Peter didn’t know whether to laugh or not, so he refrained, simply smiling and following the eccentric man to the entrance, where Tony handed over a two bright red tickets. In return, the attendant handed Tony a large stack of tickets, and then proceeded to do the same to Peter. 

“These are for games and food, if you run out, you tell one of us, and we get you more.” Tony explained, already moving them from the quickly approaching group of Avengers. 

Peter frowned, he didn’t want to put anyone out by asking for things, but before he could open his mouth to protest Tony had already shoved the tickets into his hands. “Put them in your pocket, so you don’t lose it. Don’t worry about not using them all either, just what you want to kid.” 

The rest of the group, finally having caught up, looked to have received the same treatment, all of them holding the tickets. 

Peter turned to gaze at the fair, realizing that there was still one more ‘gate’ to go through before they could continue walking. The set-up for the holiday themed area didn’t allow for visitors to walk through without first taking their photo with a very badly made up Santa Clause. 

The beard was obviously fake, and the white wig under the man’s red hat was curled and falling almost to his ears. He looked more like a hippie surfer than a jolly old saint. Nonetheless, the group turned where they stood and started towards the photo op. 

“And who is this?” Thor asked, having been silent albeit the laughter from before. 

He had directed the question at the teenager, obviously determined to pull Peter out of the shell that had been partially their fault for having gone up in the first place. The kid grinned, pointing towards the costume as they waited their turn in the short line. “That’s Santa Clause, he brings kids all around the world presents.” 

The man looked as if he couldn’t believe it, how could someone obviously out of shape do something in a single night? “He does this how?”

“He has reindeer that pull him on a sled.” Peter shrugged. “And magic, it’s kind of cool if you think about it.”

“You like magic?” Thor looked at Peter, facing away from the badly dressed man as the photographer started to figure out how to fit them all into the single picture. 

“I mean… magic isn’t real, but I wouldn’t mind being able to do some spells and stuff,” the kid shrugged, finding himself rather comfortable with Thor. It was at that moment the photographer had moved the god away, leaving Peter as the last of the group to get placed. He missed the contemplative, excited look on Thor’s face. 

“Okay, and you…” The man looked extremely nervous approaching the teen, and Peter was quick to realize that he probably hadn’t gone into work thinking he’d be dealing with a group of badly disguised heroes. 

Feeling bad, the teenager found himself smiling softly, a look that hadn’t really been seen by the group next to him. “How about, um, I can lay on the front?” 

“He sits in Santa’s lap!” Was Tony’s quick shout from where stood between Bucky and Natasha, smirking as if the thought alone was worth every penny they’d paid to get in the fair. 

“Um…” The photographer didn’t look like he wanted to contradict the man. Peter, feeling bad, nodded his head and started towards the Santa. “It’s okay, I’ll do that. Does that work for you?”

“Um.. uh… yeah.” The photographer looked relieved, running back to his camera. He quickly took a shot with the thing, almost visibly relaxing when the group started out towards the games and food of the fair. 

Peter didn’t admit that the man whose lap he’d been on smelled like beef and cheese, and instead turned to see what he could do on the fairgrounds. 

The smell of food was extremely tempting, several tents to the left had been set up with a variety of holiday dishes and typical, fried foods. On his right he could make out the games, people walking around with things they’d won. There were fun houses, although he didn’t think they were actually that fun, and several other shops selling decorations. 

“I claim Peter!” Clint suddenly exclaimed behind him, running up without warning to hook his arm around the kid. 

“I claim him first,” the archer repeated, grinning as the group started to split. Bucky and Thor headed off together, Natasha and Sam moved off in the same direction as Vision and Wanda. Bruce, Tony and Steve were the last to leave the two after a reassurance that Clint would keep a good eye on Peter. 

“Ever played fair games kid?” Clint asked, removing his arm as he started towards one of the open tents. 

Peter tilted his head, watching as the archer almost skipped in his delight to get to the games. “They’re pretty easy, and sometimes they have some great prizes.” 

He stopped in front of the tent and pulled out a string of tickets, nodding towards the variety of stuffed animals hanging inside the tent. “It’s game time; let’s win some big teddy bears!”

Despite thinking that the archer had an unfair advantage, Peter followed him to the tent and gazed at the choices of prizes. The game was a shooting game, and the stuffed animals ranged from palm size to human size. The set that caught Peter’s eyes were actually Avenger themed. They were average in size, but each teddy bear had been given the gear of an Avenger. 

The one that caught Peter’s attention the most, however, was a Spider-Man teddy bear that he’d never seen before. His heart sped up in excitement at the prospect of having something that reminded him of his promises to his family.

“What do we have to do to win those?” Peter asked the attendant. 

The man smirked. He was greasy looking, skinnier than was healthy and looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks. “You just gotta shoot the little targets,” he pointed a crooked finger towards the smallest target points, furthest away from where they stood. 

Clint huffed, looking more amused than anything. “Shoot the little targets, huh?”

With that, the game begun. Clint grabbed the gun and in the span of a minute had shot down every single small target. 

The attendant, having clearly not recognized Hawkeye, looked shocked but asked Peter which bear he wanted. Immediately Spider-Man teddy was handed over, the kid not bothering to hide that he hugged it fiercely to his chest. 

Clint didn’t miss the look; he also didn’t miss the lump in his throat from seeing how happy the teenager was. Were they doing the right thing?

“Let’s do this again, I want to win them all!” And without prompting, he started over. In the span of ten minutes Peter had a large bag filled with the stuffed animals Clint had one, including an extra Hawkeye for the man. 

“How about… ring toss next?” He asked the teenager, already starting towards the booth. However, unlike the prior game Clint did not have perfect aim. The rings kept hitting the bottles and flying to the ground. 

After a good five minutes of failure, the archer turned to the attendant and screamed. “This game is rigged!”

And thus, began an argument between a hero and the attendant that Peter had never thought he’d witness. The man was indignant, saying that his aim was perfect and that the other was crazy if he thought Clint would simply miss the bottle tops. 

Peter was once again trying hard not to laugh, the argument ridiculous. 

He jumped when an arm wrapped around his shoulder, Bucky grinning like a loon from above him. “Hey, why don’t we go do food time?” He had taken the moment Clint was distracted to take Peter away, not bothering to inform the archer that the kid was with them as he steered Peter towards the food tents. 

Thor was ambling behind them, wearing a bright red hat that lit up with fake Christmas lights. 

Unlike the rest of the team, Bucky hadn’t worn a hat or a disguise. The man had simply thrown on a jacket to hide his metal arm, and put his hair up in a bun. He was less noticeable as a hero in the first place, and generally not recognized without Steve or Tony by his side. 

“So, I’m going to leave you and Thor to grab some food, while I go pick out some stuff too. Just get three of each thing, okay?” Bucky grinned. 

“We’ll meet up at the picnic tables in fifteen minutes,” he grinned, winking at Peter before disappearing into the crowd. 

“So,” Thor waited until Peter was looking at him. “What are the delicacies we should try at this fair? Help me pick the best Midgardian treats for us to try.”

Peter grinned, seeing as the God was once again asking for his opinion and trusting that the teenager would make the best choices. Very quickly, the man was becoming one of Peter’s favorite people. “Okay, so we have to get funnel cake, the cookies, and…” Peter trailed off. Unlike most fairgrounds, the food consisted of Christmas traditions too. 

“If you can help me carry stuff, we can get a lot.” The three of them ate like crazy, and despite the fact that his stomach was still upset over certain things, didn’t mean Peter didn’t eat a large quantity. 

When he got a nod in affirmation, the teenager immediately started moving to the different booths. Five minutes in, Thor had claimed a table and sat with the pile of food and bag of stuffed animals as Peter ran around bringing more and more. 

At the fifteen minute mark, on the dot, Bucky showed up carrying his own assortment of food. He hadn’t bought three of each, however, as he had picked out the strange and bizarre things sold at the fair. 

Sitting next to Thor, with Bucky getting the seat next to the bag of stuffed animals, the trio quickly split everything up so it was evened out amongst them. Peter having not received the gross looking meals, but instead they were handed to Thor. Bucky innocently explaining that they were delicacies a person shouldn’t eat often to the God. 

Peter couldn’t hide the disgust on his face when Thor immediately agreed and took a bite of deep fried Twinkies covered in caviar. Nose scrunching as he watched Thor go through Bucky’s choices first. Deep fried oreos covered in mayo, a hot dog fried into sweet cake. 

He was glad that they let the god eat the gross things before they started on the real food. The instant the flavors hit his tongue; Peter knew he wasn’t going to stop until he’d cleared the food in front of him. Which was likely a bad idea, but then again, it wasn’t like anyone had protested, right? 

Thor laughed, “these are truly wonderful choices! Thank you, Peter!” 

The man had gone as far as grabbing three more hot dogs for himself after having been shown the proper way to top the thing with ketchup, mustard, and different toppings the tent had provided. 

It took exactly ten minutes after they had cleared the table for Peter to feel sick. His stomach rolled and he let his forehead fall to the table with a groan. He ignored the sound of a photo being taken in favor of throwing a hand over his stomach to try to sooth it. 

“Please tell me that the pile of garbage over there isn’t from your meal,” Steve groaned from nearby. 

Before anyone could reply Peter let out a pained moan, his stomach sending sharp pain up his spine. He didn’t bother to fight when a hand rested on his forehead to check his temperature, likely Bruce. 

“It wasn’t a pile of garbage, it was delicious!” Bucky protested with a laugh, totally unaffected with what they’d eaten. Even Thor looked completely fine. Of course, neither of them had the sensitivity Peter was currently going through. 

“I don’t feel so good,” Peter whimpered, turning slightly green. 

“You shouldn’t have eaten all that,” Steve reprimanded from behind the kid. “Dammit Buck, you know his stomach can’t handle all that grease!” 

Peter let out another sound halfway between a whimper and a moan of regret. 

“Yell at them later Cap, take that kid to the bathroom now,” Tony was nearby too. 

“I don’t feel so good, Mr. Stark.” Peter finally managed to life his head up enough to look at the billionaire, only to find his hand flying up to cover his mouth. 

“Shit!” Steve cursed, surprising everyone but leaving no room for anyone to talk as he bodily lifted Peter from his seat and sprinted towards the bathrooms. All four men winced when they heard the kid hurling all of what they’d shoved down their throats only seconds later. 

“Well… this was… interesting.” Tony frowned at the men. 

They waited silently until the duo got back, Peter looking pale but otherwise walking on his own. One of his hands still rested on his stomach, the small ache having remained after his body had thrown out all the content. 

“Want to leave kid?” Tony asked gently, watching as Peter vehemently shook his head. 

Bruce stepped forward and handed the teen a water bottle, making sure that he was taking small sips before stepping away. “No crazy activities. And you’re only getting water and soup for the rest of the day.” 

Peter didn’t argue; glad when Bucky picked up the bag of stuffed animals without having to be asked. The group started to amble down the pier, although Peter was barely registering it as he focused on taking steps and drinking the water. 

He startled only slightly when Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I know you’re not one hundred percent happy with us kid,” the billionaire murmured gently. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re with us.”

Peter frowned, looking at the man with confusion. He wanted to ask why he had brought it up when Natasha broke in-between them. Using her stealth, she quickly made sure that she and Peter were walking ahead of their group that had started to grow again. The heroes were assembling without a call. 

“What happened Solnishko? You look sick,” she was only gentle with the kid. Peter smiled and started to explain, glad that he wasn’t scolded by the assassin even as she threw angry looks towards Thor and Bucky. 

When they reached the end of the pier, Peter realized that they had been heading towards a ferris wheel, the line a bit short as people had started to leave due to the cold. The sun was setting, casting a bright orange light above them that painted the ocean in variants of blue. 

“Ride with me?” Natasha didn’t wait for a response, using their position in front of the group to crowd herself and Peter into the seats. 

There were a few protests, which she ignored even as Peter smiled in amusement at the antics from the team. Seemingly, out of nowhere, Natasha pulled a large bag of cookies out far enough that Steve could see it. She heard a scream of protest, but ignored it and smiled at Peter. 

“They’re homemade, think you can handle one?”

The kid grinned, taking the offered treat and promptly ignored the second squawk of protest from the group that was falling below them as the ferris wheel began to rise. As the two rose into the air, Natasha leaned over so that they were pressed against each other. 

“You’re a good kid Peter, remember that,” she smiled at the teenager, who smiled back, relaxed. 

“And you’re a good person too,” he added, gazing at the sunset. “Thank you for being so real with me,” Peter murmured. 

He missed the look of shame that fell over the assassins face, entranced by the colors in front of him. 

When they got off the ride, the lights had all come on and the sound of Christmas music could be heard throughout the grounds. Peter looked a bit tuckered out, but insisted that they experience everything before they leave. 

The group had gone into the fun house, Bruce and Peter waiting on a bench outside as they both didn’t think they’d be able to handle clowns and a room full of mirrors. They’d followed the adventure by going shopping, not that Peter had wanted anything with his bag of prizes, not that anyone had listened and gone a little crazy buying things for the holiday. 

Tony had even purchased several copies of the bad Santa photo one for each of them. The photographer had caught the exact moment Peter looked a bit grossed out by the man dressed as Santa, and it looked like a petulant kid had been forced on the man’s lap. They had laughed at the picture, even as Peter grumbled, and started towards the car. 

The teen couldn’t remember much after that, promptly passing out in the van against Thor as Sam took the driver’s seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys are enjoying the snuggles. I have an idea of where to go with this, but I may be slower on updates as the season at work picks up.


	12. *Authors Note (I Hate These Too)

Hi Guys!

I'm putting this story on hiatus for a little bit. I'm going to finish my other one, and then I plan on reworking this story. It's gotten a little out of hand from where I had wanted it to go, or at least a direction I like. But this isn't the end! I swear!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> * Warnings may change.


End file.
